


Lovers Instead

by ethotlliot (eggpainter)



Series: RTF [2]
Category: Dreamwastaken, Video Blogging RPF, dream - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, Light Dom/sub, Smut, relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:27:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 46,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28352415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eggpainter/pseuds/ethotlliot
Summary: It's— surprising, to say the least, how easy it is. This. Dating.I guess it was just that much of a long time coming.***Sequel to Ruin The Friendship
Relationships: Clay | Dream/Reader
Series: RTF [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2067834
Comments: 107
Kudos: 689





	1. inciting incident (plot)

**Author's Note:**

> this is a sequel so read the other one first (if u want)

It's— surprising, to say the least, how easy it is. This. Dating.

I guess it was just that much of a long time coming. 

Being introduced to Clay's family as— decidedly not his friend— went alarmingly well. Though, as expected, things got a little awkward when it was found out that we started dating in December and not September. He actually got smacked upside the head for it. Twice. The more I think about it, the more I realize I should've made it thrice, and tagged on one of my own. 

The best thing about when we started dating is that school was on interim, so I could stay with him the entire time, but now that that's over it's back to seeing each other on the weekends or whenever else we're free. I expected that to feel the same, but the distance is alarmingly more difficult. Especially after spending an entire month together. It's almost a shock, like stepping into a freezing cold shower, being without each other.

But, it should get easier. 

It can only get easier.

I think.

***

Daddy Dream  
3 New Messages  
'i miss you btw' 1:45pm  
'btw i miss you' 2:17pm  
'say it back' 2:37pm

I huff the smallest of laughs, cradling my phone, finally checking it after class. I type 'simp' then suck my lower lip in, quickly deleting it. I've got one better.

'scientists hate this ONE simple trick!'  
'texting their girlfriend AFTER class!'  
'so she can ACTUALLY respond promptly!' 2:52pm

The response is immediate.

'hi'  
'hello'   
'ur free? :))' 2:52pm

Ah, fuck it.

'simp.' 2:53pm

I pocket my phone after that, feeling it immediately buzz, making my way to my car. He can wait another ten minutes for me to get home. I drive quick, focused, singing along to my music and shedding the tension of the day. It's my last semester in college and it... feels like it. My classes have been pulling absolutely no punches, and it's only the second week. I have a paper due tomorrow, assigned yesterday. 

It's... stressful. Time consuming. 

I finish the drive, make my way inside, throw my bag on the floor, then collapse on the couch, sitting right next to where Ellie already sits. 

"Hey." I mumble to her, a greeting that she quickly returns with a wave of her fingers.

I lift my knees up onto the couch, curling up, deciding to ignore my homework for awhile in favor of flirting via text, checking what was sent earlier.

'ok. sure.' 2:53pm  
'u free yet?????' 2:59pm

I laugh to myself again, quiet, brief.

'so eager 😪'  
'sum u need to say or are you just obsessed with me?'   
'🤔🤔🤔🤔' 3:03pm

His reply is, once again, immediate.

'fuck off'  
'call me or tell me when i can call u' 3:03pm

My brows lift, briefly wondering if it's something important that Clay's pushing to speak so immediately. I decide I better find out sooner rather than later. I get up to standing, and Ellie immediately makes a noise. I turn quickly, seeing she has her brow drawn. 

"Already off?" She questions. 

I nod. "Clay wants to call me." I say it offhandedly. 

Ellie hums, then nods back, expression severe. "Can you stay for a minute? I need to talk to you about something..." She starts.

My brows skyrocket as I study her face. "What's up?" I question.

She worries her lip, avoiding my eyes, then starts to speak. "I—" She starts, hesitant. "I think I'm moving out." She finishes.

"What?" I question back, feeling my stomach swoop. I didn't think I was being that annoying if it's something I did it—

"Yeah. My uh— my sister is finally going to leave Mark." She says.

I sit right back down, crowding into her space. 

Ellie continues. "She's gonna move out with her daughter, needs someone around to help her... stay out of that situation and help with everything else so I— I offered." She finishes.

I nod. "That's... really intense." I mumble, bumping her with my shoulder. 

Ellie swallows, then nods, voice tight as she speaks again. "Yeah I just— I figured I could finish school online, but I only get one sister, y'know." She speaks, then finally looks up to meet my eyes, looking sheepish. "I— like... would it be chill if I look for a subleaser? I know that's annoying but like money... could get tight."

I nod immediately. "Yeah. I can look too. Whatever's easiest for you, y'know?" I say back.

My emotions are... mixed. I don't want to lose my friend and roommate but... she needs to go. This is for her family. 

"Thanks." Ellie mumbles, reaching to half hug me. "You're a good friend." 

I wrap her up, hugging right back. 

We stay silent for some time, just sitting there, processing, until the mood is settled. After it feels appropriate, I'm up again, heading for my room. Ellie kicks at me for fun, laughing me off as I sneer back.

"Lock the goddamn door if you're gonna cyber—" She yells after me, and I flip her off. 

I sit on the edge of my bed, fighting my jeans, trying to change into some pajamas, and call Clay during.

"Hey. Took you long enough." He says, chuckling as he answers. 

"Hi big man." I coo back, then I make a noise, flopping over, kicking my legs out, trying to get my jeans off, now one-handed. 

"Christ, you fighting something?" He asks, noticing the noises I'm making. 

"I'm taking my pants off— fighting my pants off." I say back, offhandedly.

Clay hums. "Damn, that fast? Do I need to get my dick in hand or—" 

I snort a laugh. "Shut up. That's not what I'm taking them off for." 

He makes a noise of protest. "But now I'm thinking about it and—" 

I interrupt. "Stop." I bite out, in a bit of a too-serious mood from the conversation I had with Ellie.

"Woah. Something up?" He asks back, used to my volatile moods and emotions. Not that I wasn't making it obvious.

I huff a sigh. "Ellie's moving out to help her sister leave her shitty husband. Remember the guy over Thanksgiving break that was like— threatening her and shit?" 

"Yeah. I remember." Clay says back, sounding tense. "That's tough."

I mhm. "I mean... it's a good thing but— y'know." I sigh, then flop over, pants finally off. "It's a complicated situation." I pause before speaking again. "So what'd you wanna show me?" I question.

Clay laughs, somewhat awkward. "Well... now I feel kinda lame for stealing your attention. It's— it's on our Minecraft game."

I laugh, sitting back up, stepping toward my PC. This is something we started on New Years. A fresh Minecraft server, just us, with plans to play it all year long and just see what happens, if we don't give up on it. I know he's a busy guy.

"Okay gimme a sec to start my shit then I'll be on." I say back, flopping into my chair. 

I thrum my fingers against my keyboard, phone propped up, and end up making weird popping noises with my mouth. Clay immediately joins, making identical noises back, until it's like a competition to see pop their lips the fastest. It's stupid. It stops without a word the second I log in, and I start running to find him. 

"Where?" I ask.

"Neg-ah-teev 1200 pose-ah-teev 340." He says back.

I find him quickly, but don't see any obvious structures. I run up on his character, that he has decked in full netherite, something I couldn't be assed to do, and mash against him. 

Clay laughs, then starts to throw rose bushes onto the ground. I coo, picking them up.

"What're you showing me? I don't see anything." I say, crouching spamming. "I'm humping your leg by the way." 

Clay chuckles before speaking. "I can see the snail trail on my thigh." 

I respond with a choked yelp, punching at him and creating distance between our characters. Nasty—

He keeps chuckling, then switches to an axe. "Get back over here." He chastises.

I raise my brows, splitting into a smile. "Or what? You'll kill me? In Minecraft?"

"Yes." He says back.

I pout. "You're being domestically violent. You can't axe attack your beautiful, loving wife and mother of your children." 

"My what?" He questions with a pitched voice. 

I bite my lip to stifle a laugh. "Sorry, sorry, thought we might be roleplaying like you boys do on your other server—" I tease back, pleased to hear his irritated sigh.

"Keep it up. See what happens to you." He responds, voice suddenly low.

Damn. Is it— is it warm today—

I bite my lip, breath hitching. He might just be teasing, but God if he doesn't make such quick work of me. 

"Yeah, daddy?" I ask, hearing the immediately pleased noise pass Clay's lips. Kryptonite. 

"Don't play this game unless you're gonna commit. Don't tease me." He says, breathy.

My thighs briefly tense. This is... stupid. Why is this actually— 

"Sorry—" I breathe out. "I just wanted to have fun I didn't expect to—" I take a shuddered breath, shifting my hips. "Yes sir. I'll stop." 

There's another noise over the mic. "Now you know damn well—" Clay pauses, blowing a drawn out breath, before pausing. 

I swallow nervously, waiting for what words are coming next, momentarily getting embarrassed that we're on Minecraft right now. 

"I'm gonna think 'bout that later tonight. But right now—" Clay starts again, and I let out a breath of relief. We've collected ourselves. 

"—follow me for an epic poggers moment." He finishes, and I snort a laugh. 

"That just revirginized you. That sentence." I say, voice teasing. 

He chuckles back, quiet, then finally starts moving his character, walking away. I quickly tap my own keyboard, following as well as I can. I note that we're headed toward an enchanted forest, then spot something that looks manmade. It's a mass of leaves, but I can't see much else than that, yet. 

"Ooh. Leaves." I say.

Clay laughs again. "Just wait." 

We take another bit to walk up, but the second I see what's going on, I coo. 

It's a wrapping tunnel of leaves, filled with lanterns, a manmade river flowing down the middle, the sides flanked with what has to be every flower in the game. I'm distracted, just looking, then see the chat move.

'your ride awaits m'lady *tips fedora*' 

"Clay—" I chastise aloud, reading the message, turning to see he's at the mouth of the river in a boat, punching in my general direction. 

"Gimme a sec to turn shaders on." I say, rolling my eyes, and doing as much. The second they're on, I hop into the boat with him, and allow myself to be ferried through the tunnel. 

Clay laughs as we start, saying "Be silent as we go through the tunnel of love." Then goes quiet. I do the same.

It's genuinely cool-looking as we go through it. The bends and dips and lighting making it a genuine experience to have. I don't want to think about the time investment, but the idea of it makes me melt all the same. The idea of him hunched up at his desk for hours, doing all of this for what— to boat me down it for five or ten minutes?

I smile.

He can be such a sweetheart. 

The ride finishes, opening back up into the forest. There's something melancholy about the ride ending, warm, but... unsteady. I want to touch. This distance is... aching. 

"When did you have time to do all of that?" I question, then, "I loved it." 

We both hop out of the boat, then he turns to ram himself against me. 

"Uh— today. It took like— all day. I just— thought of it and had to execute it once it caught my attention." He responds. 

I pout a little. "All day? That's some dedication. S'really sweet."

Clay hums in return. "I just— I mean, what I really wanted was to go to an amusement park in like... real life. Give you a smooch on one of the cheesy ass rides, but that's not possible right now. So, next best thing." 

I make a wet kissing noise into the mic, and a pleased noise passes his lips before he returns it. I decide to tease before I let myself get any sappier. 

"I mean, what I really wanted was to suck your dick in like... real life. But that's not possible—" I pause as Clay starts to laugh. "—right now. So, next best thing. Phone sex."

He responds in chat. 

'now THIS is a Le Epic Gamer Moment'  
'*takes out cock and then balls as well*'

I make a noise of disgust, but my face is split with a smile. 

"Imagine rp'ing sex in the Minecraft chat." I say, then type back:

'*grabs ur balls and squeezes*'  
'u like that?'  
'u like ur balls squozed?' 

I hear his stupid laugh as he types back.

'please mistress step on my cock'

I make a noise. It's funny. But the mistress— catches me off guard. I might—

'call me mistress irl and'

I send that, then go to type my next message. 

'ill make u cum until ur crying and begging me to stop' 

As I go to send it, a new message appears. My eyes flick up, reading a moment too late to stop as I tap enter, sending my message. I pause as I read the words I missed, drawing in a sharp breath.

Sapnap has joined the game

There's silence from me, and an "Ah." from Clay aloud. After a moment longer, someone who is neither of us types a message.

'my bad'  
Sapnap has left the game

I sigh, sucking my lip in. Clay and I descend back into a tense silence. I'm the one that breaks it.

"Why is Sap white-listed?" I question.

Clay lets out a nervous laugh. "Uh. H-he was like— helping me with building— like uh, today. I got bored... being... alone." He says.

I mhm, exit the game, then hang up the call, entire face flushed with embarrassment. Why did he have to come in on that line—

I leave my phone on my desk, getting up to put some sleep clothes on, headed back out to the living room, trying to walk it off. I go straight for the kitchen, find something crunchy, then flop on the couch next Ellie. She eyes me. 

"That was brief." She remarks. 

"Clay's friend accidentally read a message I sent where I said I would make him cum until he cries." I say back. "So I'm hiding."

"I see." Ellie says, then reaches into my space, hands grabbing for part of my snack. I allow it, because it's her. "You are disgusting." She finishes, and I laugh.

We watch T.V. in mutual silence for a short moment, before Ellie speaks again.

"Called my sister." She starts, and I turn to look at her. "We're gonna— I'm gonna go over there tomorrow, we're gonna hopefully get her shit moved as quick as possible."

"Tomorrow?" I question. "That's really quick. How did you find a place that'll let you move in that short notice?" I question.

Ellie hums. "It's an apartment in the basement of someone she works with. Gave her a nice price. Let her move in immediately. Seems like a win." Ellie puffs a sigh. "Now we just have to hope it doesn't take us forever to move all of our shit."

I laugh for that. "Do you want any help? I could always summon Clay so we can work him like a dog."

Ellie shakes her head. "I don't want you guys to get involved. But thank you." 

I bump her with my shoulder. "It's no problem. We can help."

She continues to shake her head. "I just— Mark could be there— and be scary if we take too long. Which... it's going to. It's too late to get a moving truck without paying an arm and leg, so we're gonna make a million car trips. I don't want to get you guys involved in all of that. It's going to suck."

"I bet it would go faster if we were there to help." I remark, and she immediately glares at me.

I stare her down, but decide to let it go. "Fine. Let me know if you change your mind. We'll be there if you give the word." I say, then continue to stare until she nods. 

The mood is tense, heavy, us knowing it's probably the last chunk of time we'll spend together in person. At least, the last chunk of time as roommates. We end up huddled up, both pouty— yet quiet— for what seems like hours. At least until I start to feel guilty. 

"I got so embarrassed that I hung up on Clay then disappeared." I say aloud, eyes fixed to the show.

Ellie laughs. "That's such a you thing to do." She remarks.

I groan. "I should go check my phone."

"Yes. You should." She says back. 

I groan again, but lift to standing. Time to face my shame. 

Daddy Dream  
2 Missed Calls  
5 New Messages

'pick up' 5:01 pm

'i hate when you do this'  
'it's so stupid'  
'just answer ur fucking phone' 5:17 pm

'i'm on discord whenever u decide ur done' 5:29 pm

I purse my lips, sit at my desk, open Discord, and find him pleasantly sat in a voice channel with both Sap and George. I text first, not wanting to accidentally hop in on a video or stream, though, I assume they'd do that in a server separate from ours, better safe than sorry. 

'hi'  
'safe to join?' 8:41 pm

Dream  
'yeah. all good' 8:41 pm

I join, opening my mouth to speak. Sap is quicker.

"Does Dream usually beg and cry when he busts a fatty nut?" He asks.

My eyes roll back into my head. 

"Knock it off. It was obviously a mistake that she's embarrassed about, dude." Clay immediately chastises. 

I could just say thank you, move on, but I'm not letting Sap get off scott-free. I'm teasing back.

"Sappy, I know you're obsessed with our sex life because you get absolutely no grip, but this isn't a good look for you. Did you want the details so you have something to jerk off to? Because I can tell you all about how I make Clay fucking whimper with—" 

"What?" Interrupts George, sounding half-asleep, half-disgusted.

I pause, realizing I'm probably going too far for a joke with both of his friends on the—

"I just wanted to know so that I can ask Dream's mom to do it to me tonight." Sap says back. 

Nah. I didn't go too far. 

"You won't be able to it. Your dick has to be a certain size for it work. And before you ask, no, 2 inches isn't enough." I say back, lips curling into a smile.

"Oh? So Dream's 2 and a half inches is enough?" 

"No, but his horsecock is." 

"Did you buy a plastic one?" 

"I did. It's still smaller than his absolute unit of a dick."

"I know that isn't true." 

"How? You look at his dick often?" 

"Babe—" Clay cuts in, but Sap continues, barreling over him.

"Yeah. Sometimes we compare so he can know what a real dick looks like." 

"Is it embarrassing for you? Having your chode next to his man-shaft?" 

"Is it embarrassing for you? When you can't even feel his dick when it's inside?" 

"It wouldn't even matter if that was true because there's more to sex than penetration. But, I know you wouldn't understand that, that's horsecock having mother fucker activities—" I pause, then: "Babe, you should change your Twitter handle to horsecock."

"What?" Clay says back, sounding almost amused. 

"Nah— nah— nah—" Sap continues our stupidity. "They already gave you Dream. Go for Horsecockwastaken2." 

"Yeah? Who's Horsecockwastaken1?" I ask back.

"ME, BITCH!" Sap shouts back.

Finally, Clay cuts in. "Don't call her bitch, dude. That's misogynistic." Still, I can hear the barely concealed laughter in his voice.

"I'm leaving after... that." Mumbles George, who I forgot was even on the call, followed by a chime that indicates he left the call.

I snort a laugh, feeling guilty that I annoyed George off. 

Sap makes a noise. "I better get going too before I accidentally listen to Dream cum on his fucking mic." 

"Have fun being a little bitch—" I barely finish, before there's another chime of Sap leaving the call.

Alone with Clay, it goes silent again. I worry my lip. 

"What? Was that about?" He asks aloud. "You guys are— freaks." He accuses. 

My mischievous smile tugs my lips again. "I'm sorry mister Horsecockwastaken2–" I manage to get out, then there's the chime again.

My mouth parts in surprise, he didn't really— he did! He hung up on me.

I immediately leave the call as well, then lift my phone to text him. 

'call me back'  
'🥺' 8:49 pm

He texts back:

'are u done with the horsecock thing?' 8:49 pm

I puff my cheeks out. 

'srry i have a ddlg kink'  
'Daddy Dream's Long Dick'  
'wait' 8:50 pm

'Daddy Dream's Long Gick?' 8:50 pm

I pout. I just can't win tonight.

'Daddy Dream's Large Glizzy' 8:50 pm

I watch the message get opened, then my phone lights up with a call from Clay. I bite my lip as I answer. He speaks immediately.

"Do not call my dick a glizzy? What? Are you a fucking teenage boy?' He asks, voice pitched.

I immediately burst into laughter. "Sorry— sorry—" I choke out, "Just in a weird mood. Wanted attention, I think." I say.

Clay huffs, then changes the subject. "What's the plan this weekend? I can give you plenty of attention in person." 

I pause, considering. "Not sure, honestly, with the Ellie thing going on, she's moving tomorrow." 

"Tomorrow? That fast?" He asks, the exact same reaction I had. 

"Yeah. It's a good set up, someone they know and stuff." I say back.

Clay hums. "Need me to come down and help?" 

I sigh. "Ellie's kind of... refusing it. It's worrying. It sounds like she doesn't even have like... a truck. They're just gonna shove shit into their cars."

"What?" Clay asks. "That's— that sucks. Like really sucks." 

"Yeah. It does." I say back, momentarily worrying my lip. "I think she doesn't wanna be a burden— which— she isn't. But, she's not getting that, and isn't gonna let us help." 

He puffs a sigh. "Maybe she just doesn't— I dunno. I'm sorry. That's disheartening." 

"Yeah." I mumble back. "But other than that, like, I could come up tomorrow once I'm sure they're done. It might be late, but, y'know." 

"Yeah, I get it. Seeing you all day Saturday and Sunday is enough for me." He says back. 

I smile to myself, stomach swinging at the sentiment of the words.

"I have a paper to write." I say, switching the subject again. 

"You want me to stay on call?" Clay asks.

I mhm. "That'd be nice, if it's not too boring for you." 

"I can occupy myself. I promise you that." He says, then I hear the tap of his keyboard. 

We don't say much, but we stay on call until late— until I'm done with homework. It's nice. Domestic.

I'm excited to see him tomorrow.


	2. bitter:sweet (plot, fluff)

"What did you do?" 

I awaken with a start, feeling a hand firm on my shoulder, shaking me.

"Wha't?" I mumble out, voice heavy with sleep, turning my face back into my pillows and groaning. I'm not awake enough to process words.

I feel a dip in the mattress, and realize there's someone climbing over top of me. I crack a single eye to check, seeing Ellie. She looks... severe. I blink my other eye open, trying to wake up. 

"I woke up to a phone call—" She starts, and I barely process the words. I nod, stretching, blinking rapidly. "—it was a number I didn't know. I pick up. It's— your— your dipshit man—" 

I wake up for that, brow drawing tight, fighting my body to finally sit up. I squint at her. 

"What's he calling you for?" I ask, then yawn. "At asscrack o'clock." 

Ellie lifts a brow. "It's 8am. It's not that early." 

I roll my eyes. "What'd Clay want? Did I miss his call or something? I didn't think—" I taper off as I pull out my phone. I don't have any notifications from him. 

"Nope. He was calling me to talk to me." She says, then glares at me, like I know something. 

I quirk a brow in return, lost. 

She lifts her brows, expectant. "He said to me, at seven thirty this morning: Hi Ellie, I hired movers to help you and your sister out. Just call this number. The reservation is in your name. I paid for it, no worries, bye." 

I pause, mouth parted in surprise, blinking at her. 

She continues, glaring. "So, I wanna know what you did to make him do that!? What'd you tell him? Are you gonna suck his dick for it, like—" 

I huff a quick laugh as she tapers off, lifting my hands to rub the remaining sleep from my eyes. 

"Believe it or not, I didn't ask him to do a goddamn thing. He's just... like that." I say, breath hitching, feeling warmth pool in my stomach. My big sweet man. He'd be a himbo if he wasn't so fucking smart.

"Y—you, you didn't ask him to do that?" Ellie asks.

I shake my head no, smile splitting my face, then shrug. She looks... incredibly surprised, mouth parted. There's a moment of silence where she thinks, before she seems to snap back to her body, tongue dragging along her lip. 

"I love your man, please suck his dick. For me." Ellie says, and I sputter out a laugh. 

"I mean— fuck—" Ellie continues, looking bewildered. "Kill all men... but Clay can stay." 

I laugh again, shaking my head, a fluttering feeling in my stomach. Yeah. Clay can stay.

Suddenly, Ellie's back out of my bed, floating toward the door. "I need you to wake up and help me out, if you're up for that?" 

I nod.

"Okay. I have to leave and help my sister pack because the movers are— already there. So, can you start to separate my shit from yours for me? While I'm out?" 

I nod again. "I just gotta shower first, then I can start on that." 

Ellie splits into a smile. "You're a life saver. You and your man. I'll be back in like— I'll guess two hours?" 

I wave with my fingers, and she turns and walks away. I lift my arms, stretching, and immediately unlock my phone, beaming, opening my messages with Clay and texting.

'i can't believe u'  
':)))))'  
'ur too much, u know that?' 7:49 am

Though I know he's awake, I'm surprised he texts back almost immediately. 

'B)' 7:49 am

Stupid. Still, my smile is wide enough my cheeks ache. 

I swing to my feet, shedding my clothes, letting out a big yawn, and bumbling over the bathroom. I should focus, but my mind drifts. He's really... he's so sweet. 

I turn the water to hot, run it, then turn the spray on. I loiter for just a moment, debating. Fuck it. 

I grab my phone as I step in the shower and text. 

'im in the shower rn'  
'would it be okay for me to send some pictures?'  
'i rlly want to 😌😌😌' 7:53 am

Once again, the text back is immediate. 

'fuck'  
'in what universe is the answer anything other than yes???????'  
'yes.' 7:53 am

I smile as I read his reply, already ready to act up. I take a few of my neck and relaxed chest just in water, then grab body wash, lathering it into a soapy film across my breasts.

I'm a fool in love.

I use the suds to graze my fingers along my nipples until they peak, a soft pleased breath passing my lips as I do so. I lift my phone again, taking a new burst of my neck, and soap sudded, much more excited chest. I send Clay the best one of each. 

It only takes a moment to get a text back. 

'goddamn'  
'why dont u angle that phone a little lower...'   
'im tryna see something more' 7:54 am

I smile, briefly tempted, but hold off. 

'you can see more later'  
'in person' 7:54 am

'tease'  
'what if i want it now and later?' 7:55 am

I laugh to myself, feeling the growing burn of arousal in the pit of my stomach. He's calling me a tease? I'll show him tease. I open my camera again, opting for a video. I record my fingers brushing down my collar to my breasts, toying with my nipples, making sure to let out a barely audible soft moan. Then, I brush lower, fingers following the dip of my waist, down my hip, lower, then stop recording right before I reach what he wants to see.

I send that, smiling to myself.

His next reply... takes a moment. Still, I lift my phone back into the shower the instant it buzzes.

'you'  
'you are a cruel mistress' 8:01 am

There's that word again. I feel... curious, despite how embarrassed it makes me feel. I almost want to hear it from his mouth. In his voice. Whimpered.

'theres tht word again'  
'mistress?'  
'u trying to tell me something?' 8:01 am

'wdym? im not' 8:02 am

So he doesn't want to admit to it. I'm tempted to press, but instead decide to drop it.

'im gonna start driving down the second we're done moving :>' 8:02 am

'yeah?'  
'i havent slept yet so i might be knocked out when u show up'  
'u know the code so just come in and wake me up :))' 8:02 am

I won't pass an opportunity to tease. 

'how do you want me to wake you up daddy?'  
'my mouth or my hand?' 8:02 am

I watch the typing bubble pop up, then disappear. I hold for a second, stifling my laughter. It takes Clay a moment longer to respond, but as soon as he does, I feel the flush warming my face. 

'you got me thinking all sorts of things rn'  
'and all of them end with you under me fucking begging'  
'so feel free to do either of those'  
'you have permission' 8:05 am

I consider for a moment, coy smile curling my face, heat melting me at the core.

Fuck it. I'm gonna push this further.

I flip my phone onto the camera again. I lean against the wall of the shower, lift my knee, then slip a single hand between my legs to cover everything. I arch my back, take a picture of that, then send it off.

1 Attachment   
'i might'  
'im thinking abt it too' 8:06 am

It takes a moment, but I get a picture in return. It's just as teasing. It's Clay shirtless, in sweats, obviously relaxing in bed, one hand on his thigh balling the fabric of his pants tight and pulling. It creates tension in the fabric, the outline of his cock clear as can be. Hard. 

'look at what you did' 8:07 am

I don't respond before his next text arrives. 

'you gonna be a good girl and call me to take care of this?' 8:07 am

My breath hitches, stomach swinging low. I desperately want to... but... I lift my thumb, chewing my nail. I could also just continue to cause problems, tease him, make sure that I get my brains fucked out today.

Hm. Sounds like a plan. 

'why would i do that? were gonna fuck later'  
'im going to take care of me rn'  
'and you can have fun jerking yourself off ❤️' 8:08 am

It's a bit cruel, especially considering he's been an incredibly kind man today. Still... he'll reclaim power later. I don't want to walk. Contrary to what I said, I don't take care of myself, instead focusing on my shower. I just said that to fuck with him.

It takes Clay no time to respond, but I don't check it until I'm done showering and toweling off, anways.

'cute.' 8:08 am

And nothing else. I bite my lip, leaving him on read, instead focusing on finishing getting ready. I don't dress... well. Instead opting for comfort, considering the fact that I'll be spending the majority of my time today packing for Ellie, then driving, then getting naked.

Once dressed, I head out and start packing, playing myself some music to keep entertained. I keep busy, floating around the apartment, separating Ellie's stuff from mine and tossing it into sorted boxes. 

Two hours passes quick. 

I startle once there's a knock at the door, right before Ellie swings it open, followed in by three... large men. I blink, taking a step back. Must be the movers. Still, it makes me a bit nervous. 

Ellie nods appreciatively once she sees the stacked boxes, and pushes forward, rapidly throwing stuff haphazardly into open boxes. 

"The room at the end of the hallway. All of that." She says, and the movers start to do what they do... move.

I spur into motion as well, helping her with packing things. It's... nearly a disaster. Rapid, frantic, boxes barely taped before they're out the door. Still, it gets done in a little under an hour. 

I end up grabbing my bag for the weekend once I get Ellie's new address and load into my car. I make it to her new place with only a few wrong turns, pulling into even more busyness and franticness. 

I suppose this was a last minute thing.

I hop out of my car, carefully making my way into the house then down the stairs into her apartment. I pause, searching for Ellie, waving once I spot her. She's next to her sister, who beams once she sees me. I walk over to them, but before I can talk, Ellie's sister wraps me into a tight hug. 

I fumble with my hands, at a loss, confused.

"Thank you so much." She says, voice soft and genuine. "The movers made this so much— so so much easier."

I laugh, squirming out of her hold. 

"Don't thank me. I didn't do it." I say, hands raised in surrender. 

She... keeps staring at me. I turn to look at Ellie and use her as an out, but she's already stepping away, dictating the placement of a couch.

"Who, then?" She asks.

"Uh— um— my boyfriend— he—" I stutter out. 

"Well, thank him for me." She says. "Thank you. I mean it." 

I note how quiet her voice seems, briefly upset thinking about how hard shit must've been for her, yet how much warmth she's retained. I swallow around my tongue, nodding.

Yeah. This is the right choice for Ellie. 

The chaos maintains until everything is moved in, until we're sat down on her couches, ordering food because no one wants to unpack the cookware. We share a few more laughs, shooting the shit. The feeling of bittersweet settles in between me and Ellie the more the jitters from the rush of moving fade. 

After eating, I frown.

"I should go." I mumble. 

"Yeah? Off to go pay for those movers, huh?" Ellie questions back. 

I split into a grin, kicking out at her before standing up and stretching. 

"Nah. I'm still paying off this." I say, lifting my ringed hand. "I can start paying for the movers next week." 

Ellie laughs, standing next to me, bumping our shoulders, then slowly meanders toward her door with me. I slip into my shoes that I shed earlier, then linger for a moment. 

"I'm gonna come over sometimes. A lot of times. Just to sit on your couch. And eat." I say, grinning, trying to tease but feeling real emotion.

Ellie just sighs, then wraps me into a hug tight enough that my air knocks out. I didn't realize I needed it. I wrap her right back. 

"I'll miss you anyways. So come over whenever you want." She says.

"I'll miss you too." I mumble back. "Who's gonna yell at the TV for me?"

Ellie laughs, pulling out of the hug. "Ask Clay to do it. He seems like he could have some pent up anger in there." 

I look up at her, coy. "He does. He takes it out on my—" A hand claps over my mouth before I can finish, Ellie shaking her head with a look of disgust.

"I'll miss you. I won't miss the marathon sex. How many times can a man possibly need to cum in you? I'm sick of it." Ellie says back.

I grin into her palm, then push my tongue out until her hand retracts. She wipes my spit back on me. I smile big enough to hurt, still lingering, then slowly start to turn. 

"Well... bye." I mumble. "I'll probably see you like... next weekend, I guess." 

"For sure." Ellie says back, waving me out, no goodbye. 

Before I've even made it to my car, I hear a:

"Shit! Wait up!" 

I turn, seeing Ellie dart out her door, holding up the key to our apartment like an olympic torch. It makes my heart pang. I lift my hand, and she slaps the key down into it. I hold it tight, tight enough to indent the skin. 

Fuck it.

I surge forward, hugging her one more time. We rock back and forth in her driveway like idiots, until we break apart, stepping away from each other.

God. I'm gonna cry in the car.

"Bye!" Ellie coos out this time.

"Bye." I huff back, then finally turn and make it to my car, settling in. 

At least I know I have a good weekend ahead of me. I want to be held— need to be held.

***

My throat feels rough by the time I pull into Clay's driveway, a bit past three. I spent the entire drive shout-singing, sandwiched between random bouts of muffled crying. It's embarrassing. It's not like Ellie's gone or anything. Still, it feels lonely to know I'm going home to an empty apartment after this weekend.

I carefully step out of my car, hiking my bag up my shoulder, and punch in Clay's door code. Nine—nine—one—four—two— I pause, feeling stupid. Was it— three? I tap three. The screen flashes, incorrect. Sixty seconds until an alert goes off.

I yelp, fumbling my bag, quickly typing it in again. I don't want an alert to sound. I want to surprise Clay.

Nine—nine—one—four—two— uhh—

Um—

F—f—f— eight?

The alert flashes green. I puff a tense sigh, deflating, then open the now unlocked door, slipping my way inside. I don't even bother looking around, telling by the quiet of the house that he's still asleep. I make my way upstairs, gently guiding his door open.

A smile melts my face as I peak in. True to my assumption, he's in bed, asleep, on his back, arm cast out, fingertips just barely touching Patches' stomach, who's passed out with him. He's wearing just his sweats. The sheets are a tangled mass, none of them on his body. One of his pant legs is caught, rolled up to his knee. I hover for a moment before slipping in and quietly guiding my bag to the floor. 

We were flirting hot and heavy earlier, but looking at him like this... I just want to curl up and sleep too. I approach, as delicately as possible. It's likely I'll wake him up despite my best efforts, he's such a light sleeper. Still, I ought to try. 

I toe my shoes off, dropping to a crouch to pull a hair tie from my bag and get my hair pulled out of my face. I approach from the side of the bed Patches is on, leaning over to kiss her head first, before pressing forward. 

I get a single knee onto the mattress before Clay's face twitches. I huff, lifting myself a bit more recklessly, climbing until I'm right on top of him. I settle there, our chests flush, tucking my face into his neck and mouthing at his skin. 

There's mumbling for just a moment, before two massive hands land on me, heavy, one on my waist, the other running up my back and pausing at the base of my neck and resting there. Both are warm. 

I smile against his skin, sneaking a hand up to card into his hair. The second I run my nails, there's a pleasure-filled shuddered sigh. Clay's hands tighten, holding me in place.

"M'—I dreaming or a're you h'ere al'ready." He mumbles out, voice low and rough.

It sends a shiver straight to my core.

"I'm here." I say back, nearly whispered. "Moving went fast because of your little... intervention." 

Clay chuckles, voice deep where it catches in his throat. 

"We all say thank you, by the way." I say, then get my mouth back on his skin, lips soft yet insistent.

It's almost missable, minute, but Clay tilts his head back, giving me better access to his throat.

"Any time." He says back. 

I smile against his skin again, feeling myself melt in his hands, confident, because I know he's melting the same way. I keep moving, dragging my lips until they do land on his throat. There, I drag my tongue out against his skin.

Clay's breath hitches, hands momentarily tightening with the movement. 

"Definitely real—" He mumbles out. "Because if this was a dream you'd be doing that a lot lower." 

I huff, tugging his hair and then nipping as his skin as punishment. He... is receptive to that, a breathy moan passing his lips, head tilting back further. I think, because he's so soft and tired right now, his guard is down.

...let me test something.

"I'll go lower if you're a good boy for me." I sigh out. 

The reaction is... immediate.

Clay's hips lift, pressing his lap against me and rolling. Simultaneously a breathy, needy noise passes his lips. 

"Please. G—get your fucking mouth—" He manages to start, pausing to moan again as I bite down.

I feel arousal bloom, like warmth, spreading all the way to my fingertips. I'll push this a little further. 

"Is that any way to talk to mistress? Ask nice, and I'll consider." I say back, teasing. 

I expect a laugh, a moan, a sigh, maybe words in return. Anything but—

Clay whines, lifting his hips again in a desperate motion. 

I can't help the way I split into a smile, a laugh spilling out, the power over him giving me a head rush. I try to stifle it, but he hears it. 

"Stop laughing." He speaks, voice back to a place of depth, though, he sounds somewhat more awake, hands tightening where they rest on me.

The switch has me only more humored, an even clearer laugh passing my lips. 

Clay grunts, hands going tight enough to hurt, then I'm flipped to the mattress, on my back. I yelp as I go, hands floundering to find a place to rest as he settles his weight on top of me, now getting his mouth on my throat.

I suppose he'll be paying me back, now.

Clay is much more insistent than I was with his mouth. I tilt my chin back, sucking in my lower lip to stifle a noise as he bites down, then sucks to bruise. I tighten my hands in his hair, hooking my legs around his back, then squeeze tight. I roll my hips into his lap in turn. 

"Hi." I mumble out, humored.

"Hey baby." He says back, then yawns where he's stuffed himself into my neck.

"Still tired?" I ask, dropping one hand from his hair down his neck, lightly scratching.

Clay mhms back, but continues to rolls his hips against me at a leisurely place, pressing everything between our legs flush. We're both quiet, silence of the room filled with our heavy breaths as our bodies roll together. He's the one that finally breaks it, mouth ghosting down my neck to my collar as one of his hands slides up my shirt to hold my waist, skin to skin.

"You've been on my mind all day." He mumbles. "You. Like this. Under me." 

"Yeah?" I ask back, voice still light with humor.

Clay mhm's again, and I watch as he lifts his head, eyes dropping to stare at my chest. I can tell he wants my shirt off.

"You gonna take care of this yet?" He asks, then rolls his hips again. 

This time, the thrust is pointed, Clay's hard cock pressing against me between my legs. Needy, needy.

"I bet you're still so fucking soft and—" He interrupts himself to lean in, getting his mouth back on my neck while I hold him tight. "—fucking wet from touching yourself earlier, aren't you?" 

I roll my eyes. "You wish I was. You wish I did." I say back.

He grunts. "You didn't?"

"I didn't." I say back. "I just wanted to tease you." 

I yelp as Clay nips my skin again as punishment. "I'll get you ready for my cock. Don't worry." He says.

I huff a laugh, petting the back of his neck. 

"Can we take a nap first? I just want... a little more time with you." I ask. "I'm so comfy." 

He huffs, pressing a soft kiss.

"Fine. But after..." he mumbles, dragging his lips along my skin. "You're all mine."

I nod, breath hitching.

"Sounds fun." I remark back.

Clay grunts before settling in, going limp on top of me. I continue to pet his hair and graze my nails along his shoulders until his breathing goes even and he slips back into rest.

Under him, like this, I feel safe. Happy, even.

Everything else can wait until later.


	3. a lotta lust (smut, fluff)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: consensual somno, shock collar

When I wake up again, it's dark. I blink, noting we've adjusted at some point. I'm next to Clay, my back flush to his chest, essentially just spooning. I peel my face from his arm, smacking my lips. I find the wherewithal to look behind me first thing, seeing he's still asleep.

I shift carefully, trying to get up, but the second I move, Clay's arm lands on my waist, circling around me and pulling me back, holding tight. I barely break into a smile before he shifts again, and something hard presses to my ass.

I blink, once, paused, just waiting for him to inevitably wake up and continue. I'm surprised when he... doesn't. 

I tilt my head back again, searching his face, double checking. He's definitely... still asleep... I think. My brow furrows. He must be in a deep sleep if that much movement didn't wake him up. I worry my lip for a second, brain kicking into gear. What if I...

I mean... 

He said I had permission...

I roll my hips back into Clay's lap, once, like an experiment. His arm tightens around my waist, a heavy breath escaping him. I pause, searching his face. It stays completely relaxed, lips just barely parted, expression soft. 

I feel a jump of excitement in my stomach, thoughts shifting into overdrive. Okay. Definitely. I can have fun with this. I move one of my hands behind my back, pushing into his sweats, surprised when I find no boxers.

I almost roll my eyes. 

He knew he was gonna get some. Cocky asshole.

I keep my hand slow, careful, wrapping around the base of his cock and squeezing. Another exhaled noise passes his lips as his hips move to rock himself into my hand. I keep my head tilted, watching his expression stay soft. My eyes flick down his face, following the line of it. 

I stroke up the length of his cock, pumping it in my palm, excited as I feel it grow heavier, stiffer, with my stimulation. I nearly salivate, thighs tensing as his cock twitches with interest in response to me.

I can't believe he's still a... sleep—

The corner of Clay's lips twitches. I almost miss it. I narrow my eyes, then drop my hand to the base of his cock and pause. His brows briefly knit, then relax, his hips slowly rocking against me.

"You rat bastard." I say, quiet, and watch as one of Clay's eyes opens to peer at me, a smile suddenly splitting his face.

He is awake. Was awake. 

"G'morning. What a way to wake up." He mumbles, voice humored.

I groan, pulling my hand from his sweats despite his protests, slapping him away from me. 

"It's not morning. You're such a dick. Were you pretending the whole time?" I ask.

He grunts. "Is that a problem?" He asks, hand on my waist going tight again as he flips me to my back and climbs on top of me, even as I try to slap him away. "You want me asleep? You dirty little somnophiliac." He says, teasing.

"No— I just— it—" I start, stumbling over my words, squirming under him. I feel embarrassment, hot on my face, looking up to see the smug humor painting his. 

I huff. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction. I tilt my head back. "You said I could." 

Clay chuckles, low and quiet, staring down at me. "I could pretend to go back to sleep if you wanted? Would that get you excited?" He teases, pressing his still hard cock against me.

I roll my eyes. "Or I could just slip NyQuil into your drink." 

He snorts a laugh. "Are you threatening to drug me?" 

"Consensually." I tease back. 

He breaks into a full bodied laugh. "Only if I can consensually run your tight little fucking—" A phone alarm blares, interrupting him. 

Clay's head quirks, like he's thinking. "What time is it?" He asks to no one in particular, leaning to the side to lift his phone and check it. The second he looks at it, his brows nearly lift off his face. 

"Shit—" He says, then all but flies off of me, alarm now silenced, headed straight for his PC. I sit up, watching him go, almost humored. 

He's frantic, mumbling 'c'mon' under his breath, repeated. I yawn, then stretch. 

"Forget something?" I ask.

He groans. "I— I literally— I told these guys I'd be a guest on their podcast that started like... fifteen minutes ago." 

My mouth falls open in surprise. I can't help but tease. 

"Damn. The fame is getting to Dream— I heard he ghosted some podcast like a total dick." 

"Stop." Clay chastises back, blowing out a tense breath.

"Mister Minecraft, thinks he's too cool for his commitments—" 

"Stop." Clay says again, though this time it's firm, final. 

I roll my eyes, forfeiting, then swing out of bed, suddenly hungry and eager to not be in the room while he does this. I'll just go make some food, then. Patches tries to walk in while I'm on the way out, I pause, scooping her up, then gently shut his door behind me. 

"Daddy's too busy for us." I mumble, humored, allowing her to climb up onto my shoulder and perch there as I walk. 

I'm surprised how behaved she is, staying on my shoulder, keeping steady as I walk into the kitchen. I go straight for the fridge, pleased when I open it and actually find food, contrary to how... barren it usually is. 

I pluck ingredients for gingersnaps, then allow Patches to climb down my arm and sit on the counter among the utensils. I make quick work of it, getting the cookies mixed, formed, and into the oven all while Patches watches before I pause to think.

Cookies? Just cookies? 

I should make... food... too. I huff, pouting and looking at Patches. 

"Should I, big girl? Real food? Or do I just annihilate the cookies and regret it later?" I ask.

She stares at me. I lift my fingers toward her, and she pushes forward, sniffing at the tips. I close the distance, scratching under her chin. 

"Yeah. I should. You're right big girl." I say, huff, then turn back to the fridge. 

I end up plucking the ingredients for a simple pasta dish, using refrigerated pasta and some expensive-looking premade red sauce. I get the water boiling, then uncap the sauce, set it on the counter, and suddenly think I want to grab some seasonings from the pantry. I turn, grab a few, then turn back. 

I immediately see an issue happening on the counter.

Patches.

She lifts onto her back paws, extending her head to sniff the uncapped sauce. I yelp, quickly stepping forward. She startles, flopping backwards, then kicking out with her feet. I try to move quick enough to catch, but just end up getting closer. It's like slow motion, watching the glass jar cascade to the floor, collide, then burst. The bottom of my shirt, my shorts, and my legs get coated in sauce.

Of course.

Fuck me.

"Patches—" I groan out. 

It's my fault for letting her stay on the counter, but it still feels horrible. I groan, dropping to a crouch, carefully lifting the glass chunks to toss, getting them gone first so I don't injure myself, until I'm left with a sauce covered floor and body.

How am I supposed to even— clean this— 

I hear the timer for the cookies go off, and notice that the water for the pasta is rapidly boiling. I step forward in a panic, and step red into sauce and slide, landing right on my ass into a pile of sauce on the floor.

Great.

Fantastic.

I nearly shout in frustration. This is supposed to be easy. This is something I'm good at. Cooking. Why am I flopping so hard. I whine, pouting for just a moment, before I get myself back up. I get the cookies out of the oven, then turn the water off. I end up using way-too-many paper towels and Clorox wipes to get the sauce, then immediately strip naked and throw my clothes in the wash. 

I have to hop in the shower, brief, just to get the sauce off my legs. If I take a little extra time to wash my entire body so that I smell nice for later, that's my business. Once out of the shower, wrapped in a towel, I feel conflicted.

My bag is in Clay's room, and though I wanted to dress nice tonight, I don't want to interrupt him. I suppose I could just... see if I can swipe his clothes. I head back to the laundry room and I open the dryer, checking, sending a silent thank you to the sky when I see he left clothes in it.

Men. Predictable. 

I thumb through Clay's clothes, finding threadbare plaid pajama pants and an equally worn long sleeve. The long sleeve has four buttons at the neck that are already unbuttoned. The bottom of the slit reaches below my breasts. 

I leave it unbuttoned.

I roll the sleeves, tie the waist of the pants, then cuff them. Redressed, I make my way back into the kitchen. Round two. 

This time, I make a vodka sauce from scratch, get the pasta perfect, and serve a plate, leaving the rest covered. I eat standing in the kitchen, scrolling social media, just waiting until I get the text.

Finally, it comes.

Daddy Dream  
'all done :)'  
'come back up' 8:02 pm

I smile, texting back. 

'u want dinner?' 8:02 pm

He replies nearly instantly.

'hell yeah B)'  
'order in or go out?' 8:02 pm

I don't bother correcting him, serving him a plate, grabbing one cookie for him and two for me, then heading upstairs. 

Clay's head turns to look the second I walk in his door. I watch the surprise warp his expression as his eyes land on the food.

"What?" He asks, smile spreading in his face. "You cooked?" 

I hold up the cookies.

"Baked too. Domestic goddess things. You're welcome to get down the floor and bow to me." I say, grinning.

Clay shakes his head and rolls his eyes as I approach and lower the food to his desk. The second it lands, his eyes are on me, flicking up and down the outfit, quickly followed by his hands. 

He circles my waist with his arms, pulling me close between his legs and pressing his face into my stomach. I exhale, lifting my hands to card into his hair. I hear him speak, but it's muffled by his face being planted in my clothes.

"Hm? I couldn't hear any of that." I say, tugging his hair.

He lifts out, tilting his head back to look at me. 

"I wonder happened to 'I can dress seductively'?" Clay asks, voice teasing. 

I squint in confusion. That seems... a bit out of left field. Maybe I'm not cute, but I am comfy. Plus, these are his clothes that I changed into because I got mine dirty while cooking for him.

"What?" I ask back, sharp, moody, still upset from the distress I went through earlier when nothing was going my way.

Clay barrels on, smiling and unaware. "I just think it's funny that you were all like 'no Clay I dress up too' but you're always in like—" He pauses to lift the hem of the shirt. "Stuff like this." 

I squint at him, jaw ticking. "Okay? Do I need to go fuckin' change for you or something?" 

He notices my tension, hands lifting to pull me closer. "No, no, no— I wasn't— I didn't mean like— that wasn't meant negatively— I just— it was— I was making an observation." He stutters out.

I shift uncomfortably. Fine. I guess that's—

"Besides, I like you so much better than any of the girls that like— try so hard, y'know?" He continues.

Speedrun world record for putting his fat fucking foot in his stupid fucking mouth. 

"So you think I don't try?" I question, sharp.

"No you're—" Clay starts, high, desperate, then pauses to blow out a tense breath. "I just meant that like... I like you, you're very genuine."

"Because I don't try? Or?" I continue, hurt.

He makes another noise, brow starting to draw tight. "You're not listening to me. That's not—"

"No, I heard you. Loud and clear. I'm better than girls who try, which, wouldn't be me. Because I don't try?" I say, then try to pry his hands off.

He holds tighter. "I'm just saying I'd rather be with you than some girl that is obsessed with her appearance and shit."

I grimace at him. "Well lucky me. I guess I really won by dressing poorly and being really ugly." 

Clay's eyes roll back into his head. "Holy shit— that's not what I'm fucking saying." He says, then tugs until I'm in his lap. 

I huff, letting him man-handle me. "I'm just saying that—"

I interrupt again. "You don't need to keep repeating it. I get it." I barely finish my sentence before Clay's hand snaps up, gripping my face and jerking it into place, forcing me to turn toward him. 

I keep my eyes turned away to antagonize.

"Look at me." He says, low. 

My breath hitches, but my eyes flit over, finally meeting his. He seems... severe. 

"Are you going to listen to me this time?" He questions. 

I feel petulance burn, demanding beneath the surface. I'm in a bratty mood, sensitive from making a mess earlier, tilted into oblivion by his words.

I shake my head no, because I'm honest. 

Clay glares me down, steadfast, but I glare right back. He sighs as he finally drops his hand from my face and forcibly readjusts me until I'm slung across his lap. His arm around my waist stays firm, but his other hand relocates to his desk. He tugs us in, then lifts his fork and starts to eat his dinner.

I watch him do it, pissed at how much I need him to praise the food despite my attitude. He takes a couple bites before he mumbles out: 

"Food's good."

I respond with silence. 

Clay huffs. "Come on. Don't be like this. Talk to me."

Silence.

Another sigh, then he speaks, lower this time. "Where'd you cop this fucking attitude?" 

I decide to be honest. 

"I had a rough time cooking so I was already in a bad mood. Then, you insulted me." 

He makes a desperate noise. "I didn't mean it like that." He says. "I was just remembering when we first started talking and you whipped out a bunch of lingerie and said like 'I dress seductively' and I—"

"And?" I interrupt him, in disbelief that he's really going to keep going.

"And I was just laughing because you never fuckin' wear it." He continues. "But it's fine that you don't. I like this too." He finishes, then tugs on a handful of the pajama pants.

I stare him down.

"The way you phrased it was minuscule cock energy, dickhead." I say, matter-of-fact. 

Clay's mouth opens to reply, but his screen flashes with an incoming notification. A call from Sapnap. It's probably a good thing, I can tell by the look in his eyes that I wasn't going to like what he had to say. He lifts a single finger, like he's pausing the conversation, then answers the call. 

"Hey man." He says, quiet, then goes right back to eating.

I hear muffled speech from his headphones between his replies, but can't make any of the words out.

"Yeah, I can."

"When?"

"Sure, sounds fun. See you in a bit."

"Bye man."

Then, he hangs up the call. 

"I'm gonna be on Sap's stream in like fifteen." He says. 

Silence. 

The silence continues until Clay finishes eating, then goes to eat the cookie. He takes one bite, then sighs. 

"What?" I question. "Cookies bad?" 

"Opposite." He grunts. "Cookies good." 

"...then, why the sigh?" I ask.

He sighs again. "Cookies very sweet. Like my girlfriend when she isn't throwing a fit." He says.

I roll my eyes.

"Aren't you supposed to hop on Sapnap's stream? Maybe you should be getting ready for that instead of critiquing me right now." I say.

Clay rolls his eyes. "Great resolution to the conflict." He says.

"What conflict? Is there conflict?" I snap back.

We spend another moment, just staring each other down, until I find the resolution to squirm of his hold and out of his lap.

"Don't be late for your stream." I mumble, then I'm stepping away. 

I flop into Clay's bed, huffing and pulling out my phone, idly swiping, waiting for him to join Sapnap. He glares at me one more time.

"The fuck do I need to say? I'm sorry?"

I huff again, rolling away until I'm no longer facing him.

"Fucking talk to me." He all but begs. 

I stay silent.

He huffs, then I hear the rattle of him punching something. I glance over, seeing he's pulled back up to his desk, focus shifted to his computer. There's only a few more moments before I hear a false bright hello, followed by idle conversation and laughter. He must've called Sapnap. I'm immediately moody.

The thing is, I like my nice clothes, but I don't need to dress seductively to pull him, so I always neglect to wear them. I sit up, walking over to my bag. 

Here's the kicker to it all: I packed lingerie for the weekend, so I could thank him for being nice.

I slip my hand into my bag, thumbing through my clothes. I land on the set, it's high-waisted cheeky panties and a strappy bralette, both all see-through lace colored light lavender. I turn to look at the back of Clay's stupid head, then pull out the next bit.

Leather collar. Leash. 

Asshole. I can dress seductively and however I want.

I slip out of his room and head to the bathroom to change into it. Once it's on I look at myself. It's good. He'd like it. Dressed like that, I head back into Clay's room and get right back into his bed, careful that he doesn't notice my change of clothes.

I start plotting how to best fuck with him. Do I just walk over there and just— no, that won't do. Crawl under his desk and—? Maybe not.

I pause, lifting a thumb to chew it, before I'm struck with a moment of brilliance. 

This one will get Clay. This one is— as rude as possible. I wait, first, idly scrolling Twitter for half an hour just so he can get comfortable before I spur my master plan into motion, nerves and excitement burning in my stomach.

The moment thirty minutes are up, I drop a single hand, gliding my fingers along my waistband, staring at the back of his head. I push forward with my hand, and gently knead myself over my panties. Simultaneously, I slip a single hand up to my chest, running my fingers across my breast over the thin lace of the bra before pushing it up.

I let out the smallest of noises, watching in excitement as Clay's head just barely quirks toward it. He's noticed something. It wasn't enough noise to get him to turn, though. I wonder what he thinks I'm doing? 

I brush my fingers over my nipple, letting it peak, then pinch. Another small noise releases. Clay reacts as though something is tickling him, neck jerking, angling his ear at me, but still not quite turning to face me and see what's happening. 

Stubborn man.

I flip to my side, facing him, then then turn my head into his pillow to muffle myself. I wonder how far I can get before he turns.

I smile privately, then get more demanding with my hands. I pinch my nipple, pawing my panties to the side to expose myself. I'm not sure what I expect him to do once he turns. Maybe I want him to get on his knees and beg— or— or maybe I want him to get mad and fuck me senseless— he explicitly has my consent to do what the fuck ever unless I safeword.

I'm not sure which scenario I find hotter. I guess it's his choice, if he ever decides to turn around. I moan again, less muffled, though still quiet enough that his mic wouldn't pick it up.

I sigh, relaxing, lifting my hand to spit on my fingers before guiding it back between my legs. I slip in, gliding my fingers through my slick, letting the sensation bloom warmth across my skin as my fingertips make contact with my clit. 

I keep staring at Clay, eyes lowering, following the line of his arm down to his hands. His forearm briefly tenses so he can stutter click something and I clench on air watching his veins jump against his skin.

I lift my free hand to my face, feeling how warm it is, then cover my mouth with it to muffle my noises, finding a rhythm with my fingers. It's good enough my hips rock into it, breaths getting heavier. 

I let out another massive sigh, body briefly arching as I get myself close. Clay almost turns, but not quite. I speed my fingers, getting them just right—

And—

And—

And—

I whine aloud before I can stop myself, about to climax. 

"Just a sec." Clay says, finally seeming like he's about to address the situation. 

There's the tap of a key-bind that I've come to recognize as him muting himself, then a moment of what feels like slow motion as he turns. 

"What are you— you— y—ou—" Clay stutters to a stop, turned to face me, eyes darting from the hand between my legs to the hand on my face, and the entirety of my body as I arch, shuddering into an orgasm with an uninhibited moan.

I flutter my eyes shut briefly, small breathy moans escaping, legs jerking as I rock through my orgasm, then force my eyes back open. I tilt my head, holding eye-contact with him, and continue, despite the way my body jerks, noises higher and more constant.

Clay's expression is... dark, heated. He taps his keyboard again, but keeps his eyes on me.

"Hey, I'll be right back." Clay says. There's a pause. "Yeah, someone's at my door— I'm sorry." He continues. 

I muffle my whimpers, continuing with my hand between my legs. 

"Yeah, yeah, like fifteen minutes." He finishes, then taps the keybind again.

Clay stays seated in his chair, one hand resting on his knee, thrumming his fingers, the other idly scratching his facial hair as he stares me down. 

I moan again, high, whiny, desperate, realizing I just want him to come over here and do something to me.

Clay rolls his shoulders, shaking his head, jaw tight. I finally drop the eye contact, swallowing nervously. Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no, no. I might be in trouble for this one— 

"Is this—" He gestures to me, "—you throwing your little fit?" 

I watch Clay's foot tap, once, twice, before he pauses again. I manage to look up and meet his eyes, seeing the anger burning there, simmering just beneath the surface.

"Get up and come get in my lap." He says, a demand.

No shot.

I tilt my head back. "Make me." I say, attitude taking control.

Clay takes a shuddered breath, dragging his hand down to his throat and rubbing.

"If you don't get up, I'm coming over there." He says.

My breath hitches. I lower my eyes, and speed my hand right back up between my legs despite the way they jerk in oversensitivity.

"Go ahead." I reply back, breathy, then start to ignore him. 

There's a moment of tension and silence before Clay huffs. I look up in time to watch as he nods, still looking tense, then he's up. I nearly curl in on myself, nervous, watching as he approaches, pulse increasing to a flutter. His hands land on me... contrastingly gentle to the way I expect. He stares at my paused hand between my legs.

"Don't be shy now. Go ahead. Keep touching yourself." He says, voice stern.

I swallow my nerves, knees lifting, and manage to start moving again, circling my clit just the same. Clay lets out a pleased rumble, hands lifting to land on my thighs and spread them open further, just watching. There's an indent in the softness of my thighs where his firm fingers press into the flesh that makes me... happy to see. This is more... gentle than I expected.

"What do you—" I try to start, but I'm interrupted as Clay's hand pushes forward, covering my mouth and gripping my face.

There's the energy I was searching for.

"Be quiet." He says, low and stern, then drops his hand to wrap it around my neck and tighten. "I don't give a fuck what you have to say right now. Do you understand that?" He finishes, something pleased shining in his eyes as his fingers press to the collar then brush lower, dragging against the lace of my bralette where it presses to my shoulder.

I whimper, feeling soft and small, legs briefly drawing tight. I nod, gripping on air. He's... pissed. I spur my frozen fingers back into motion, eyes fluttering shut briefly before I manage to keep them barely cracked open. 

I sigh out a quiet moan, feeling incredibly sensitive to my touch from the way Clay is taking control. He seems to notice, fingers brushing up my thigh to land on the waistband of my panties and play with it. Then, he presses against the hand I have between my legs.

I swallow around my tongue, hips twitching as I continue to drag my fingers against my clit, pressure increased from his push.

Clay speaks. "You're gonna keep touching yourself, like the needy fucking whore you are, until you cum, while I watch you." His eyes flick back up from between my legs to meet mine. "You've been fucking with me all day. Is this the attention you wanted, baby?" 

He hums, dipping his head like he can't stop himself, mouth landing on my collarbone to roll my skin between his teeth, briefly soothing it with his tongue before pulling back up.

"You need to learn how to act. So until Nick is done streaming, you're gonna wait, begging for me to fuck you while you touch yourself." He says. 

I whimper, arching my body against Clay's, trying to make contact with his lap, tempt him in. He sighs, then tightens the hand around my throat until my thoughts go fuzzy, body melting into something completely lax and pliant in his hands. 

"Behave, baby." He mumbles, leaning in to press another kiss. "I promise I'll put your needy little pussy to good use in the meantime." He says, then finally pulls back, eyes flicking back down.

Clay presses his hand forward again, between my legs. It gets a breathy noise out of me, briefly distracted while his fingers hook into my panties and pull them to the side. He lets out a pleased noise the second I'm exposed.

"Look at that." He mumbles, one hand gripping my thigh and keeping me on display, the other's fingertips following the dip of my thigh. There's a quiet control in his his face as his eyes stay turned down, locked between my legs.

Though this is my punishment, Clay's equally pushing his control. He takes a shuddered breath as I push my fingers inside of myself. His free hand creeps even higher, until he can use a thumb to hold me open and give himself a better view.

"Fuck, baby." He sighs out, watching me pump my fingers in and out of myself. "I'd be fucking you already if it weren't for your bratty little attitude..." He mumbles. 

I huff in return, pulling my fingers out of myself to land back on my clit. I angle just right, the stutter of my fingers perfect. My thighs tremble, just barely, heat blooming in my stomach.

Clay's hand starts to move again, demanding, hooking a single finger into my bralette and pushing it up until its over my breasts. I try to move my hand up to help and take it all the way off, but he catches me at the wrist and guides me back down between my legs.

"I didn't say you could stop." He chastises.

I whine, feeling vulnerable exposed under him like this while he just... stares. It only lasts a moment before his head dips, mouth harsh once he makes contact with my chest. His tongue pushes out, burning hot against my skin before his mouth tightens down, roughly stimulating my nipple. I can't help that I arch into it. 

His free hand cups my other breast. The skin of his thumb is rough as he teases my nipple to a peak, then pinches, hard enough I whimper. As if that wasn't enough, the hand holding my panties to the side readjusts, until he can push a single massive finger inside of me alongside my too-small ones. He fucks it into me as deep as he can get before curling the digit up. I grip down immediately, legs pulling tight.

The dual stimulation makes quick work of me, everything going tight and sensitive. Clay notices, then pushes a second finger in. It's... a lot. I pull my hand back, shifting my fingers to focus my clit as he finger fucks me. His fingers just get... so fucking deep.

I swallow, body arching and pulling tense, hands pausing to go tight as I get close. His fingers... are enough. I feel my orgasm build, tilting my head back, landing my hand on his wrist, knees lifting. It's like a sudden crash, the perpetual throbbing between my legs melting into a wave of pleasure as I grip down on his fingers. 

He doesn't stop. 

Even as I whimper, kick out, starting to get overstimulated, Clay continues, pleased rumble low in his throat vibrating my chest as he continues to fuck me far past my orgasm. 

I...

I can't help but drop the attitude. Some of it.

"Please— daddy please—" I whine out before I can stop myself, digging into his wrist with my nails.

Clay pauses, but doesn't pull out, lifting his head to stare me down. I can tell I'm panting, gripping down on his fingers, hips rocking as I look right back. I find difficulty maintaining eye-contact.

"You ready to listen to me?" He asks, voice low but tender.

I swallow, eyes briefly flicking up to meet his before flicking back down. I don't want to— but this is overwhelming.

"Come on." He mumbles out, then his fingers finally pull out of me. I sigh in relief, arching to press our bodies flush. "Tell me you'll be a good girl so I can fuck you."

"I—I—" I start, breath hitching as Clay angles his hips to roll his hard cock against me, pressed between my legs. "I thought— you wanted me to touch myself and wait until th-the stream was over." I observe.

He chuckles, shaking his head. "You're right. I'm just getting ahead of myself— something so... soft and warm and needy right there begging for me. It draws a guy in." He huffs, the presses a single kiss to my neck before continuing to speak, mouthing at my skin. "You're gonna feel so good on my fucking cock." He mumbles out. "You're gonna be my good little whore, or I'm going to make you behave." 

Before I can speak, he lifts from my neck, sitting up. I'm almost thankful. I wasn't going to be smart, and I certainly wasn't going to behave.

"Stream's waiting for me." He says. His eyes land on me, inquisitive. He runs his fingers along my side feather light, like he's asking: Can I do what I want to do? Can I be rough?

I look up at him, nodding, permission. He nods back, then gets my bralette back into place, briefly pausing to play with the lace before he's up. I watch his hard dick bounce as he goes, neglected inside of his sweats. 

I'm surprised when he immediately turns and grabs me by the leash, tugging it. 

"Up. Out of bed." He demands. I decide to listen, lifting until I'm standing next to him, legs fawning.

Clay wraps an arm around my waist, guiding me toward his desk, then sits down. He peers at me, looking almost predatorily smug before he speaks. 

"Get in my lap." He says.

I squint at him, then tilt my chin back, defiance returning.

Clay seems... pleased. "No?" He questions. 

I keep my chin tilted, swallowing once, stomach burning with insolence, then shake my head no.

"Okay." He says, once, then the leash is jerked. I'm forcibly pulled closer until I'm right between his legs while he leans over, reaching for something in his desk. I freeze up as I watch him produce his shock collar. "Fine by me." He says, then shrugs, staring at me, keeping the item tight in his palm.

"In my lap, now, or this goes around your neck."

Really?

I tilt my chin back, antagonistic smile curling my lips. "Is that meant to scare me?" I question, because I'm stupid, reaching for his wrist.

I glide my fingers against his skin, tracing a vein. "C'mon big boy." I coo out. "Do it. Put it on me." I finish, then press a single finger to the release of the collar so that it opens, ready to be applied.

He doesn't have the balls.

I see a flash of Clay's smile before his hand darts forward, holding me harshly in place, the other gripping the collar. 

My breath hitches. Oh shit—

"You're so bratty. Always fucking bratty." He says, then undoes the collar already on my neck, replacing it with his own, then reapplying the leash. I grip down on his forearm, stomach fluttering with nerves. 

This time he leans back, looking cocky, and pats his lap with absolute confidence. 

"Sit." He demands.

I whine, nodding, and crawl right into his lap. I doubt he'll use it... but the threat is enough to have me tense, compliant. 

Clay manhandles me until my back is flush to his chest, hooking his head over my shoulder. He takes some time to tease, dragging his lips along the sensitive skin of my neck, pressing kisses as he goes, up my neck, then to my ear. He nips my earlobe then speaks, low, murmured. 

"Stop me anytime you want out, okay?" He says, then tightens his hand on my waist and leans back, free hand pawing his sweats down just far enough to free his cock.

I shiver in anticipation, curious. He said he wasn't going to fuck me so why— are— ah—

Clay bites down on my shoulder, sucking to bruise as he guides his cock to press between my legs, head of it bumping my pussy over the fabric. 

"Panties to the side for me." He demands.

I nod, eager to behave with a shock collar around my neck, pulling them the the side to expose myself. 

Clay has no hesitation, gripping his cock and guiding it in with ease. I moan, high and breathy, suddenly getting filled by his cock as he guides me down into his lap, fitting the full length of himself inside of me like it belongs there. 

I take a moment to adjust, then tense my thighs, ready to ride.

Clay holds me in place.

"No." He says, simple. "You don't have permission to move. You're just a tight little fucking hole to keep my cock warm and that's it. Sit." 

My breath hitches, hips twitching and pussy throbbing as he keeps me split on his cock. My entire body rocks with temptation

"Please daddy—" I start, mumbled and small. "I'll be good." 

Clay laughs. "You will be. Sitting right fucking here." He says, tugging us up to the desk while I grip down on his cock tight enough a small noise passes his lips. 

I watch in shock as he lifts his headphones, puts them on, then unmutes. The second he's unmuted, he drops his hand between my legs, curious fingers pushing forward to feel the way his cock is stretching me. It's brief, then his fingers lift to my clit. He circles, slow, intentional, perfect.

"I'm back. Sorry about that." He starts, then: "Neighbors dog got loose, you know how it is." He says, pressing a kiss to my skin over the collar.

This... asshole. I nearly whine, feeling how stretched I am on his cock, hips twitching in temptation. 

There's only a moment before Clay taps his keybind to mute, grabbing my wrist and guiding my hand back between my legs.

"Go ahead." He starts, "Keep fucking touching yourself like you were earlier. You'll be doing it until the stream is done since you couldn't wait." He says.

Before I can say a word of protest, he unmutes, landing both of his hands on his desk.

"Yeah it's insane how much a fence doesn't do." He says.

I take a shuddered breath, only because I can't make a noise otherwise. I stay frozen, hand just resting between my legs, thighs going tight, watching in utter disbelief as he just... keeps his cool, watching Sap's stream and joking with him.

This is cruel. Clay knows this is cruel. Still, I feel arousal and want unfurling in my stomach like a demand. I tilt my head back and to the side, resting it on his shoulder and mouthing at his neck. I only make it a moment before one of his hands comes down, covering mine and forcing it to move between my legs. I catch on quick, and finally start to drag my fingers against my clit.

My body is responsive, desperate. I clench down on the length of his cock, thoughts consumed with how good it would feel to move. To have him fucking in and out of me, to— to— my hips adjust, and I barely bounce before I can stop myself. 

Clay's arm goes around my waist tight, him blowing out a breath as though punched. He immediately mutes, but stays silent, holding himself tense behind me. I mewl out a moan, thighs twitching as I try to bounce again, but he keeps me held in place. I decide to focus on my clit instead, the way he wanted, rubbing my cheek to his skin, trying to soothe him. 

"I told you—" He starts, low and controlled. My breath hitches, hips rocking as my body pulls tight from the severity of his voice. "To behave. Didn't I?" 

I whine. "Y-yes. Yeah."

His hand adjusts, dragging up my stomach, over my chest, then wraps around my neck just under the collar and goes tight. My eyes roll back as I feel him squeeze. He presses a contrastingly tender kiss to my cheek while I whimper, body arching and thoughts going fuzzy. I lift both hands to his wrist, digging in with my nails as I get more and more desperate for oxygen

"I don't want to hurt you. But you're making this hard, baby." He mumbles, and I nearly whine. 

God, he's so fucking hot. 

"Behave." He says squeezing my neck one final time before dropping that hand back to my waist and tightly holding there. 

I draw in a heavy breath, swallowing, then turn obedient, fear and arousal blooming across my skin. I drop my hand right back between my legs, circling my clit while keeping my hips as still as possible. 

"Good girl." Clay finally murmurs praise, dragging his thumb along my stomach, then unmutes again. 

I can do this, for him.

It's... difficult to keep my head. Our every breath, every movement, and the rumble of his voice in his chest against my back just remind how much I want to bounce, move, anything. I keep my fingers steady between my legs, knowing that if I stop I'll get in trouble. 

It's embarrassing to watch and hear, Clay's hands always on his desk, never on me. Though, sometimes he stops looking at the stream, turning his gaze down to watch me move. I can tell when I distract him, because his hips just barely rock before he can stop himself, abdomen going tight with restraint against my back. 

I stuff my face into his neck every time I feel the noises tighten in my throat, threatening to spill out. Clay mutes and shushes me through it, every time. 

We... almost get caught. As I get close to climax, I bite down on Clay's neck, trying to muffle myself. It works for my noise, but as I get close I clench with everything I've got, throbbing around his his cock. A noise slips from his throat just as he mutes. I'm close enough to his headphones to overhear.

"What was that?" Sapnap asks, and my breath hitches. 

"Keep going, baby." Clay mumbles, quick, before unmuting again. "Dude I was stretching, you freak." He says back, a small shake in his voice.

My eyes roll back into my head as I nod, barely containing my noises. I lift my hand to grip Clay's forearm and hold on tight, digging in with my nails. 

I keep going.

My thighs pull tight, hips rocking before I can stop myself, the stutter of my fingers rapid and constant. Clay's watching, entranced and restrained, hands white-knuckling where they rest on his desk. I tap on his arm as I get close, like a warning, body arching, and he mutes.

The second he's muted I let out a heavy breath against his neck. 

"Please— please. Fuck me through it. Please." I beg, burn of my orgasm demanding in my stomach. 

I can cum, but I know how much better it would feel if he— just— 

"No, baby. Cum on my cock. That's all you get." He says, low, but I can hear his control slipping.

I whisper one more, "Please—" In a desperate last attempt before I allow my orgasm to happen. 

Clay exhales, harsh, as I clench down on his cock, both of our hips twitching in temptation. I feel resolute, thighs shaking, ready to take whatever punishment is coming if I move. I just— I can't—

Before I can move, his arm wraps around my waist, firm, holding me in place. 

"God, you feel so fucking good." Clay sighs out, dropping his mouth to my shoulder and whining. 

We rock together for a moment, my orgasm fading from pleasure into sensitivity before he moves off of me. I turn in time to watch him tilt his head back, swallowing roughly, eyes fluttering. He wants it as bad as me. 

"After— after the— after the stream—" He mumbles out, eyes cracking back open to stare me down. "—I'm gonna fucking ruin you." 

I whine again, gripping his arm tight. 

"Keep touching yourself." He demands, his hands moving back to his keyboard as he unmutes again. 

I nearly cry, unsated, desperate to be fucked already, but listen, dropping my fingers right back to my clit. It makes my entire body jerk in sensitivity. I have to clench my teeth in order to keep quiet. 

I can hear Clay talking, and fight to focus in on it, distracted by my hand between my legs. 

"Long stream today, man?" He asks. 

I press forward, trying to hear Sap's response. I barely make it out. "Nah. I think this is my last one. Got stuff to do for school." 

Oh thank God.

The next fifteen minutes are the longest fifteen minutes I've experienced. I nearly sob when I hear Clay's "Bye! See you soon!" Then watch him hang up the call. 

The mood shift... is instant. Desperate lust communicated between us. His headset lands with a clang, dropping to the floor.

My noises are mewled, constant, and high. 

"Please— please— please, daddy please—" Chokes out of me as we lift up to standing, his cock still inside, his arm tight on my waist. 

Clay's arm pushes forward, shoving everything out of the way before it lands on the back of my neck, gripping, guiding me down, bending me over his desk. 

I nearly shout as his hips snap, colliding against my ass with a harsh audible slap. His rhythm is desperate, rapid, hard. I lift one of my arms to cushion my head before turning to look back at him through my lashes, mouth open to moan, pleasure spiking across my body as I feel the relief of his cock dragging in and out of me, pushing my limits.

Finally. 

"I've been waiting all fucking day for this." Clay says, low.

He lands both hands on my hips, steadying me as he fucks into me before pulling his hand back to hit my ass, once, with a sharp snap. I whine, back arching, presenting. There's a tremble in my thighs, but I keep myself upright, eyes fluttering shut. 

"So good— you feel so good—" I sigh out, bouncing against his desk, getting fucked out of my mind. 

Clay moans in return, hands holding my hips tight before he finds his voice. "I know." He says back, confident. "S'why you're such a little fucking whore for me, huh? Touching yourself for attention?" He starts.

I mewl out a moan, nodding. 

"Teasing me all— fucking— day." He accents each word with a rough thrust, rough enough my legs pull tight. 

I barely collect myself before his hand circles my hip, dragging along my stomach, then landing between my legs, fingers stuttered against my clit.

I whine.

"I'm gonna cum if you— ah—" I start, stopping to moan as he speeds up.

"Go ahead." He says back. "Cum for me that fast." 

I whimper, nodding, taking it like permission, letting the burn grow low in my abdomen, throbbing around his cock. It only takes a few more moments before I crest over, hands scrambling again his desk to steady myself as I climax. 

Clay... laughs, hand pulling back to slap my ass, hard. 

"Good bitch." He says, almost humored, one hand lifting to hook into the back of the collar and pull tight, applying pressure to my throat. 

I tilt my head back, whimpering, body trembling as he fucks me into overstimulation, too spent to do anything but take it. I lose myself in the rhythm, feeling his restraint from behind me. 

"You're gonna cum for me again." He says, resolute. "Then I'm gonna fuck your throat, and make a mess of that pretty face." 

I nod where my face is mashed into my arm, whimpering, holding myself tight. I can do that. I can be a good girl. 

Clay keeps the collar pulled tight around my neck as he fucks me, massaging my clit and snapping his hips, until I'm a mess, moaning and scrambling to steady myself. I nearly shout as I cum again, body and pussy completely spent. He wastes no time, slipping out of me, moving his hand to the leash and pulling tight to lift me from the desk while I grip on air, still coming down from my orgasm. 

"Get on your knees and open your mouth." He demands.

I look up at his face, then listen, sinking down to my knees while staring up at him. My eyes flutter as I open my mouth and push my tongue out.

Clay seems briefly caught off guard, hard cock twitching in his palm as he stares down at me. He reaches forward with his free hand, dragging his thumb along my cheekbone, then to my lip, before swiping down the middle of my tongue. 

"Fuck me." He starts, still staring. "That's a fucking view—" He breathes out, and I flutter my lashes, pushing forward with my tongue. 

I want his cum down my throat. 

Clay blinks, rapid fire, seeming to catch up to himself before he speaks. "I'm recording this. So you can always remember what the fuck happens when you fuck with me—" He fumbles to grab his phone, then angles it. 

I can put on a show. 

I move forward, desperate, eyes rolling back as I stare into the camera. 

"—all day—" Clay finishes, breath heavy as he watches me. 

Finally, he remembers himself, guiding his cock into my mouth. I wrap my lips around it immediately, tracing the ridge of his cock's head with my tongue before letting my mouth go loose again. 

Clay's hips roll once, like a trial, his cock bumping the back of my throat as I fight to relax. I blink up at the camera, moans low in my throat as he guides his hand back to my face, thumb pressing to the corner of my lips to feel himself inside, before he finally snaps his hips, rolling to fuck my mouth. 

I can see the restraint in his abdomen, feel the trembling in his hands, hear the noises dripping out of him. This isn't going to be long.

I can tell the second he gets close, his breaths and moans getting higher, more constant. The roll of his hips turns jagged, desperate. His cock flexes against my tongue. I hear a mumbled, "Fuck—" Then feel heat at the back of my throat, his hips pushing forward, rocking against my face. 

I look up at him through my lashes, seeing how relaxed his face is, the pure bliss painting his expression, then flick my eyes to the camera. 

I don't swallow.

I pull off his cock, keeping suction to clean the cum as I go, replacing my mouth with my hand to gently stimulate him. I look up, then push my tongue out, drooling his cum from my mouth, down my chin.

The noise Clay releases... is guttural, shuddered, deep. I watch as his eyes go wide, mouth falling open. His hand is on me instantly, thumb pushing into my mouth, cupping my jaw and tilting my face up.

"Holy— holy fuck—" He all but whimpers, then I tighten around his thumb and swallow. I pop off his thumb, drop his cock, then wipe my mouth off with my arm. 

Clay drops his phone, gets his sweats back on and up, then leans over, lifting me, pleased noises streaming out of him. I sigh, sated beyond belief, feeling exhausted and spent, going soft in his hands. The first thing he does is pull the collar off, the second thing he does is tackle me to his bed and stuff his face into my neck. 

I make small desperate noises right back, lifting to dig my fingers into his shoulders and hold on as he mouths at my skin.

"God I'm so in love with you—" He coos out, and I laugh, slapping at his back. 

"Good girl." He mumbles out as my head lulls, eyes fluttering as I finally relax, pinned down by his weight to the mattress.

That's the attention I wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *starts hella moaning*


	4. dancing around it (plot, fluff)

Sapnap  
'u alr man?'  
'u sounded kinda'  
'out of it' 11:07 pm

I stifle my laugh in Clay's shoulder as he opens and reads the message. 

"Tell him." I say, still laughing.

"What— no." Clay chuckles out, then texts back: 

'sry was fighting w my girl'  
'all good now tho xD' 11:41 pm

I roll my eyes. 

"Yeah? Is it?" I ask, teasing, dragging a hand up to lay flat on his chest.

Clay cranes his neck to glare at me, face set. "I didn't— I wasn't—" He starts. I stare him down.

He sighs. "I'm sorry." He says. Good boy.

"It's okay, big boy." I say back, then press a kiss to his shoulder. "I liked getting angry-rough fucked. It was fun." 

"Yeah?" He asks back, teasing smile starting to spread on his face. "Should I have shocked you for real?" 

I look at him through my lashes. "Should I have shocked you for real?

Before Clay can respond both of our phones buzz. My lips twitch as I watch him open the message. It's from Sapnap, sent to the discord that has me, Clay, George, and him. 

'dream was fucking on my stream'  
'he has to be stopped'  
'george back me up' 11:43 pm

Clay makes a noise of protest, typing back:

'i did nothing of the sort'  
'ur telling lies' 11:43 pm

Sapnap replies in an instant. 

'theres a 1 in 7.5 trillion chance u werent just fucking on my stream' 11:43 pm

I have to bite my lip to stifle a laugh, but Sap keeps going.

'i heard that little'  
'ah'  
'ah ooh'  
'ah'  
'im stretching ah'  
'ah' 11:44 pm

I have to get in on this. I fumble to pick up my phone. The second Clay sees me grab it, he reaches over and tries to swipe it. He knows me too well. I'm fast, dodging and rolling away from his reach, keeping my phone held tight. 

"Babe— don't—" Clay starts, but I'm already sending my message, well, messages.

'so ur saying there's a chance i didnt just cum multiple times while u were streaming and multiple times after 😳'  
'noted' 11:44 pm

Clay closes his eyes, puffing a sigh as he sees my message. 

"You're a menace." He chastises, and I nearly laugh at the word choice, but... it reminds me...

"I thought I was a good bitch? Daddy's little whore? A tight hole just to keep your cock warm?" I tease.

Clay looks flustered, cheeks going red as he hears what he said earlier repeated back to him. 

"Sorry I called you bitch..." He mumbles, and I nearly burst into laughter. 

I read Sapnap's reply, then I do burst into laughter.

'I WAS FUCKING RIGHT'  
'APOLOGIZE 😡 APOLOGIZE 😡 APOLOGIZE 😡 APOLOGIZE 😡 APOLOGIZE 😡 APOLOGIZE 😡 APOLOGIZE 😡 APOLOGIZE 😡 APOLOGIZE 😡' 11:44 pm

I lift my phone to text again, and Clay huffs, giving up on taming me, texting his own replies. 

Dream  
'srry man'  
'u gotta understand'  
'shes a fiend' 11:44 pm

Shitass  
'ur angry bc u get no grip'  
'reddit moment' 11:44 pm

Dream  
'reddit moment' 11:44 pm

Though he's smiling, I also get glared at again. I curl into a smile of my own. meeting his eyes.

"You gonna punish me? Call me a bitch again?" I say, coy as he continues to glare. 

We keep staring, until Clay makes the first move, crawling on top of me. I yelp, pushing at him with my hands, split into an excited grin. With my guard down, he finally snatches my phone, and chucks it across the room. It slides to a stop near his door. He stays on top of me, keeping me pinned, our bodies flush. 

"I wouldn't call you a bitch. Gamers respect women." He says. 

"You just did—" I start.

He interrupts, lips twitching to smile. "No. You're wrong. I didn't." He pauses, then murmurs under his breath, "Bitch." 

I yelp, slapping at him before I find my voice. "I—" I speak again, squinting at him. "I don't love you anymore." I say, then turn my head away. 

Clay starts to laugh, rumbling where our bodies are connected. His head dips to my neck, pressing a feather light kiss. 

"Yes you do." He says, and I can feel him smile where his lips are against my skin.

"No." 

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes." This time, Clay nips at the skin of my neck like a punishment. 

I squirm, trying to get away from him, but he keeps me pinned. 

"I'm not moving until you tell me you love me." He says.

I huff, smacking the back of his head for it. He doesn't budge. I huff again. 

"Fine. Fuck you. I love you." I grumble out, then Clay pulls out of my neck, split into a smile. He uses the new angle to lean in and meet my lips, soft and careful, then finally flops off of me and to my side.

Free, I roll out of his bed and stretch, thighs feeling wobbly from our physical activity. I pad over to his closet, swipe a random t-shirt, slip it on, grab my phone, then turn to leave. I get one single foot out the door before Clay's up, plastered to my back, a single arm looped around my waist.

"Where we going?" He asks, voice warm. 

"I was going to go brush my teeth." I say.

Clay makes a noise. "We can go do that." 

"Stage five clinger." I huff, pretending to be annoyed, but only make a few moments before I'm laughing again, guiding him toward the bathroom. 

I smile when I see my own toothbrush, and get to work. I barely get the brush in my mouth before his pants drop to the ground. My brows lift, and I make eye-contact with Clay in the mirror. He approaches, now nude, from behind me and drops his chin to my shoulder.

"I gotta shower." He says.

"Mhm." I mumble around my toothbrush.

He purses his lips, looking sheepish. "You wanna join me?" He asks.

Ah. 

"Mm—mm." I say, a no. 

Clay makes a noise of protest. "Why not?" He asks. 

I roll my eyes, then bend over to rinse my mouth as his hands land on my hips and hold firm. Once I'm back to standing, I turn to face him. 

"I showered twice today already." I say.

He fully pouts. "So? Shower thrice." 

I pat his shoulder, shaking my head. "It's a no, big man." I say, then move to leave. 

Clay grumbles but lets me go, heading in to shower alone. I exit the room completely, heading downstairs. I find Patches on the couch and sit there, scooping her into my lap. I pull my phone to occupy myself, and see Sap has been texting in the meantime. 

'APOLOGIZE 😡 APOLOGIZE 😡 APOLOGIZE 😡 APOLOGIZE 😡 APOLOGIZE 😡 APOLOGIZE 😡 APOLOGIZE 😡 APOLOGIZE 😡 APOLOGIZE 😡'  
11:45 pm

'APOLOGIZE 😡 APOLOGIZE 😡 APOLOGIZE 😡 APOLOGIZE 😡 APOLOGIZE 😡 APOLOGIZE 😡 APOLOGIZE 😡 APOLOGIZE 😡 APOLOGIZE 😡'  
11:46 pm

'APOLOGIZE 😡 APOLOGIZE 😡 APOLOGIZE 😡 APOLOGIZE 😡 APOLOGIZE 😡 APOLOGIZE 😡 APOLOGIZE 😡 APOLOGIZE 😡 APOLOGIZE 😡'  
11:47 pm

My brows lift as I keep scrolling, seeing it continues until about 5 minutes ago. 

'APOLOGIZE 😡 APOLOGIZE 😡 APOLOGIZE 😡 APOLOGIZE 😡 APOLOGIZE 😡 APOLOGIZE 😡 APOLOGIZE 😡 APOLOGIZE 😡 APOLOGIZE 😡'  
11:58 pm

I stifle a laugh as I text back.

'sowwy' 12:03 am

Sap immediately starts typing. 

'it cant be that hard to not have sex'  
'it cant be'  
'its disrespectful' 12:03 am

I reply. 

'to u'   
'but daddy dreamy's got a weenie that he loves to show 😩' 12:03 am

'ok but'  
'have u ever fucking told him no?'  
'try it out sometime' 12:04 am

'ok but'  
'then he'd be moody without his feeding'  
'how would that make u feel?' 12:04 am

'good'   
'TELL DREAM NO MORE SEX 😡'   
'ON MY STREAM 😡'  
'unless hes doing it w me 😏' 12:04 am

I snort a laugh at that, going to type more, but end up startled out of my trance when I hear a crack of thunder. Patches meows in protest, pressing closer to my stomach, equally startled. I drop a hand to scoop and lift her, holding her tight to my chest. 

I look and realize it's raining. Has been raining. At that I lift to standing, almost excited. I pad over to turn all the lights off, then crack open the glass sliding door out to Clay's porch. I hover in the doorway, breathing in the soft scent of fresh rain, staring up at the sky to watch lightning flash and break the muddled grey. Patches seems curious, sniffing the air herself, but maybe a bit more cautious than I. 

I decide to lay down, right on the floor, face lined up right where the crack in the door is, Patches tight to my chest keeping my hands warm. I end up distracted like that, just breathing the air, watching the rain streak. I stay like that until I hear a thump and groan. 

"Why the fuck are all the lights off?" Clay calls out from the general direction of the stairs. 

I laugh to myself, staying silent. 

"Baby?" Clay calls out again, voice a bit more inquisitive, followed by the thud of his footfall heavy on his stairs. 

"Where—" There's a crack of lightning, close, that briefly illuminates the interior of the house. "What?" 

Clay must've seen me, because his footsteps get close, closer, until there's a thump and I feel a warm body pressing against my back. 

"What're you up to?" He asks, pushing a hand forward to land on Patches' head and scratch before adjusting it to loop around my waist.

I tilt my head back, thumping it against his chest. He grunts, then stuffs his other arm forward, under my neck. I lift, then rest my head on his bicep, letting myself get pulled in close. 

"Rain smells nice." I say, like that's enough of an explanation. I don't know why I'm doing it, honestly. It's an impulse. But, I am sure of that. The rain smells nice. 

I take another heavy inhale. This time, the fresh scent of the rain is muddled by Clay. Specifically his bodywash, detergent, and mouthwash. An equally nice smell. I let my smile split my face, warmth and contentment burning in my chest as I nuzzle my cheek to his arm. 

"I guess." He says, sounding vaguely humored, thumb moving in small strokes against my waist. 

It's nice. I relax into before I can tell that I am. I pass out, on the floor, in Clay's arms.

***

I wake up to a crack of thunder loud enough the house shakes. I squint, slowly processing where I am. We're... still on the floor. I huff, lifting a hand to hold my freezing cold nose, fumbling to draw my phone out. I flinch at the blast of light, seeing it's a bit past 2 am. We only slept for a little then. 

Clay's hand is still heavy on my waist, moving in small motions. If the thunder woke me up, it definitely woke him up. My suspicions are confirmed when I try to move and his arms go tight, keeping me in place. 

"Don't leave me." He says.

I huff. "We're not sleeping on the floor." 

Before he can respond, there's another crack of lightning that hurts my eyes, followed almost immediately by thunder. I look up the sky, see the lightning splitting it near constantly and how heavy the rainfall is. 

"It's going crazy out there." I mumble.

Clay finally lifts his head out of my neck. "Yeah." He says back. There's a small pause, then: "Wanna go check it out?" He asks. 

I nearly jump to my feet, suddenly very awake, stumbling toward the shoes. I'm nothing if not stupid. Clay chuckles from the floor, pressing a kiss to Patches before he slaps the ground and raises to standing too. 

"I need a shirt." He says, sliding past me as I slip my feet into his slides. 

I'm hovering at the door when Clay comes back downstairs. He put on the long sleeve of his that I was wearing earlier, the sleeves are stretched taut where they're rolled up on his forearms, though, it's buttoned. That won't do. I stride up as he hops to slip his own shoes on.

He gets out a, "What?" Before I'm reaching forward and undoing all four buttons at his neck. He watches me do it, a grin twitching to life in corners on his lips. 

"Yeah?" He asks. 

I wordlessly nod and turn away, snagging his keys and walking straight for his garage. 

"Hey— hey—" Clay calls out, voice firm. 

I turn and squint at him, hand paused in the doorway. 

"Coat. It's like... forty-something degrees." He says. 

I lift my brows. He thinks he can tell me to do a single goddamn thing? I ignore him, striding into the garage and unlocking his car as he shouts after me. I settle into the passenger seat, smug, waiting for him to come out. 

It's— I'm— it's a bit cold. I won't lie.

It takes a moment, but Clay finally appears. He moves quick, hopping into the driver's seat. The first thing he does is throw something at my face. I yelp in protest, pulling it back, seeing it's a hoodie. He slams his door shut and starts his car, shaking his head.

I'm feeling petulant. I take the hoodie, fluff it out, then lay it across my legs like a blanket.

Clay side eyes me as he presses the button to open his garage door. 

"Put it on right." He says.

"It is on right." I say. 

Clay sighs, turning to back out. My eyes drop to his collarbones, just barely exposed from the unbuttoned shirt as he does it. I lift my hand, and push it into the neck of his shirt. He grunts as I make contact with his skin.

"You're cold. You're so stupid." He chastises, lifting a hand to pry mine out of his shirt. 

Though, he doesn't let it go, instead holding my hand tight in his warm palm, and turning the heat up for me. I lean into his space as he starts to drive, laying my head on his shoulder, wrapping around his arm to leech warmth. I turn my head, staring at his collar again. I let out a small hum, content, listening to sharp patter of rain against the car, thinking... thoughts. 

"What?" He asks, because he has a sixth sense for my misbehavior. 

I press a kiss to his shoulder. "I'm looking at your chest and creating sexual scenarios that involve me bruising it." I say, simple, proud when his breath hitches.

There's silence for only a moment before Clay speaks again. "I can't take you anywhere." He mumbles. I laugh at him for it.

"True and factual." I say, rubbing his shoulder with my cheek. 

Clay sighs again before speaking. "You gonna play me some music?" He asks. 

"Mm—mm." I refuse. "I wanna listen to the rain." I say, then finally focus my eyes out his window, watching the rain cascade. 

I get distracted for only a moment, as lightning flashes again and briefly illuminates us, looking up at Clay's face, seeing the focus pulling his brow tight as he drives as carefully as possible. He's doing this for me. 

I appreciate it. A lot. 

He drives me through the city, to the suburbs, down the less trafficked roads. The rain picks up harder, wind lashing against the trees outside, lightning and thunder cracking close enough the car trembles. It spreads excited smiles across both of our faces... until we hydroplane. 

I yelp when I feel it, Clay's hands going tense on the wheel, a muttered "Shit—" passing his lips. 

He gets control of the vehicle back at the last second, right before we almost slam into pole, skidding to a stop. We hold our breath for a moment longer, before Clay breaks into quiet chuckling. 

"Screaming doesn't help." He chastises. I smack his arm, but laugh back. 

"I think I might crawl us into a parking lot or something, wait for that shitty wind to die down, yeah? Don't wanna crash the car at 3 am." He says, then starts moving again, a lot slower than before. 

I nod, along for the ride. True to his word, he drives us into the parking lot for a mall that's nearly empty. There are a few cars parked closer to the entrance, but we're nowhere near them. He parks, turns the car off, then adjusts his seat back. He looks over at me, and pats his chest. 

"C'mere." He mumbles. 

I sit up, looking back at him. I'm tempted, but I have a better idea. A stupid—er idea. I reach behind me for my door, opening it. 

Clay sits up as soon as he hears the click of the lock releasing. "Baby—" He starts, reaching for me, but I'm faster. 

I yelp, darting out of the car, running into the pouring rain. It's heavy on my skin, immediately soaking into my shirt and sliding down my face. I laugh, overjoyed, feeling it catch on my eyelashes. I only have a moment alone before two hands land on me, still warm.

I'm drawn into Clay's chest, laughing as he says every swear under the sun. 

"—fucking kidding me—" He continues, hands demanding where they land on my body, bundling me up. 

Clay's still going when I tilt my head back, looking up at his face, seeing that despite him chastising me, he's split into a grin. I bat my eyes, blinking away rain, and he slows his speech to a stop, staring back. His breaths are heavy, the rise and fall of his chest pressing against me in a rhythm. His hands become softer despite the way they pull me closer. 

I tilt my chin like a demand. It takes him less than a second to deliver, head dipping so we can meet lips. I smile against his mouth, a pleased noise slipping from low in my throat, my hands dragging up to slide into his slicked down hair, already saturated with rain. There's a taste to the kiss that isn't usually there from the rivulets making their way down our faces and across our lips. 

The kiss gets forceful, our mouths pressed rough, harsh enough I take a stumbled step back that he chases. When we break, we're both smiling, bodies stuck together from the wet fabric of our shirts. 

"Dance with me!" I yelp— excited. 

He nods yes, tightens his arms around me, then suddenly we're spinning and moving in the rain, just us.

***

Hours after departing, we end up back home, sitting in Clay's garage, I sneeze, shivering like a fool. I continued to refuse to put the hoodie on, even after getting back in his car soaking wet. 

"You're gonna get sick. You had your movie moment but at what cost?" He chastises.

I sneer at him. "I'm not going to get sick from a couple minutes in the rain." 

***

The next morning, I have a fever and a sore throat.

"I told you." Clay says, voice still muddled with sleep, his hands suddenly feeling uncharacteristically cold against my skin. 

"You're an asshole." I croak back.


	5. silent treatment (plot)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi im back :3c

"I got—" Clay pauses, hovering in the doorway to his bedroom, lifting up a a grocery bag. "Honey flavor. And cherry flavor. I couldn't remember what kind you liked." He says, then walks up, dropping the bag on me.

I groan, feeling hazy. I've already taken cold medicine, but my throat hurts. I peek into the bag, seeing the two flavors of cough drops and lift one at random, tearing into it and getting the lozenge into my mouth. Oh, honey is it. 

I roll to my side and curl up, continuing to explore in the bag. I find myself an Arizona. I get distracted staring at it before I can even try to assess the rest of the contents in the bag.

"When I said tea, I meant hot." I croak out. 

"Oh." Clay says, walking up to pluck the bottle from my hand and stare at it. "What if I just like... boiled this?" He asks, reading the label. 

I flick my eyes up to glare at him, blearily blinking. 

"What if I boiled you?" I ask, irritable. 

Clay raises his hands in surrender, though, a grin curls his face. 

"Alright, alright. I'll go back and get tea bags." He says, flipping his keys back out of his pocket and dangling them before turning to walk away.

I whine for that, reaching out to hook my fingers into his shirt. He lets me tug him back in, grin splitting his face.

"Do you hate me or do you love me? Make up your mind." He teases.

I let go of his shirt, then turn away to pout. 

Clay laughs, but I feel the mattress dip with his weight. He climbs in, getting close enough to press against the length of my back, one arm curled around my waist. I smile, pleased, but keep that information to myself.

"What're we doing today, whiner baby?" Clay asks, quiet, leaning in to press a kiss to my shoulder. "We haven't fucked yet so I know we have to have sex at least five times, but other than that..." another kiss on my shoulder. "What would you like to do?" 

I sigh, rocking my hips to settle in, pressing against Clay because I can. 

"Like having so much sex is your burden; your cross to bear." I whisper, so that I don't irritate my throat further. 

"It is." He says, breathy, lips on me again.

Clay's mouth starts to get... exploratory. He kisses down the line of my shoulder, to the middle of my back, shifting lower on the mattress. I let it happen, breath caught in my throat. He lands a hand on my hip, forcibly guiding me to roll over onto my stomach. I let him, keeping myself soft and pliable, stretching out once I'm laid prone.

At that, Clay's hands start to explore too. I feel him grope my ass, before the tips of his fingers slip under my shirt, pulling it up. I moan, soft, just feeling the way the pads of his fingers brush against my skin. 

"You're so warm." He breathes out, mouth landing on the center of my back. Though, this time it's lips to skin. 

I make a noise, arching, shivering, twisting my hands in the sheets as his mouth drags lower. He keeps his lips flush to my skin, kissing down my spine, to my hip, then nips there. 

I expect him to go lower, instead, he sits up, leaning over me until he can snag the bag he brought home. I'm confused, trying to crane my neck back and make a noise. Before I can see what he's doing, something freezing cold lands on my back. I flinch, letting out a whined noise. 

Clay shushes me. "S'just lotion." He mumbles, before pressing his fingers into my back and spreading it across my skin. 

I...

I moan.

My eyes flutter shut, breathy desperate noises passing my lips. I'm noisy enough that Clay laughs from where he's pressed behind me. He keeps his lap flush to my ass, dragging his fingers along my body with even pressure. 

"You sound like I'm actually fucking railing you right now." Clay says, humored. 

I moan again, drawn out, twisting the sheets in my grip and arching back against him. He leans into it, keeping himself pressed against my ass, then slowly rolls his hips. I take a heavy breath as his hands go higher, pushing my shirt totally out of the way until he's touching my upper back.

"Please daddy—" I mewl out, not exactly... cognizant. 

Clay comes to a complete stop, hands squeezing tight where they rest on my body. His hips roll again, rougher, and I feel his dick stiffening where it's pressed against me. 

"Watch your mouth. Words like that might get you into—" He slaps my ass, once. "—trouble." He finishes, then immediately breaks into a laugh.

I feel my face split into a warm smile, eyes rolling back in my head as he starts to rub again. 

God it feels so good.

"Don't stop, please, you feel so fucking good." Is the last thing I can remember moaning, entire body going lax as I melt into the mattress.

***

I wake up startled, alone in Clay's bed.

"Oops—" I try to whisper out, but nothing comes. 

I sit up and rub sleep from my eyes. I feel stuffier, achier, worse. I really got sick and blew this whole weekend away. I look over to my side, and see Clay is fully seated at his PC. I get out of bed, despite the way my body aches, and approach from behind. The second I land a hand on his shoulder, peaking over him to see he's playing Minecraft, he startles, jerking in his seat.

"Jesus—" He starts, fumbling to move half his headset off his ear. "You're up. How's the throat?" He asks.

I try to tell him, but all I do is... breathe. My vocal cords make a small almost honk-like noise, and nothing else. 

Oh my God. I really— I lost my voice. 

I stand there for a moment, eyes locked to Clay's in utter and complete silence. I can't believe this. I haven't lost my voice since I was— since I was a fucking kid. I take another few moments to process as Clay continues to look at me, half-amused, half-confused, before I lift my phone. I go to my notes and type:

'i thimk. I lost my fuckcing voiec?????'

Then shove the phone at him.

Clay's brow furrows. "What?" He mumbles out at he takes the phone. He seems to read it, process it, then his brows nearly lift off his face.

I'm not sure what I expect, but I definitely don't expect that smile that rapidly warps his expression.

"Really?" He asks

I nod. What a stupid question. No, I'm lying about losing my voice for fun, yeah. Sounds right. I must have a bitter look on my face because Clay gets immediately softer and more attentive. 

"Ah, baby it's okay. C'mere." He coos out, hands lifting to land on my waist and tug me down into his lap. 

Clay man-handles me until I'm draped just perfect, then starts to pet my hair. 

"Yeah, sorry, my girl woke up and lost her voice, apparently." He says. I can hear the laughter from his headset.

"No—" Clay starts, lips twitching. "No— dude—" He says, sounding almost offended. "—it had nothing to do with my dick." He says, clear and confident, and I freeze up.

Oh my God it might've had something to do with his dick. He was throat-fucking me yesterday. I wonder which of them said— oh who am I kidding. Sapnap. Sapnap said it. I slap at Clay's shoulder as punishment for it. Someone needs to be punished for it. 

"Dude, you're getting me slapped." Clay says, humored. "No, my shoulder, not my balls. My balls remain unslapped."

For that, I lift my phone. I type Clay a new note, then shove it in his face. 

'ask hi m why hes fso fucking obsessd with ur dick tn'

Clay rolls his eyes, then pushes the phone away. He goes back to talking, not acknowledging what I wrote. Fine. I'll do it myself. 

I navigate to the Discord, and see the last message sent was from George in the middle of the night that reads.

'literally what is wrong with you guys' 4:46 am

I spend a moment longer scrolling up, remembering me and Sap were already recently acting like freaks over text. I guess it's time for round two. 

'why are u so obsessed w dreams dick'  
'is it bc his cock is so big it enters a room and then ten minutes later he enters the room, or? 🙄' 3:17 pm 

There's only a moment before I watch Clay tab over to Discord. 

"What did you..." he starts, going quiet as he reads it. Then, "Babe." Once he's done.

I laugh, but it's silent.

"You and Sapnap have been awfully..." Clay pauses to sigh, "...you've been talking a lot." He says, stiff.

I lift my brows in surprise. He sounds... is he jealous? Before I can ask, there's another message. I read it off Clay's screen, then fly to type a response. 

'wouldn't know'  
'we never see it'  
'because its inside of u 24/7'  
'lil bitch' 3:17 pm

'oh?'  
'u upset that ur not getting daddy dreams giga schlong shoved up ur tight little sappussy anymore?' 3:17 pm

"What." Clay says, the second the message pops up for him. 

I turn to grin at him, but he simply glares back, hand tensing on his keyboard. I get excited when I feel my phone buzz again, and go to check.

'no im upset that i fuck ur mom daily and she hasnt texted me back' 3:18 pm

My grin is nearly maniacal as I type my response.

'K? gimme ur dad's number and ill ride his fat little chode cock so hard he gets friction burn cowboy' 3:18 pm

"I think that's enough." Clay says, to both me and Sapnap, his arm around my waist going almost painfully tight. 

I roll my eyes but decide I'll probably listen to him. It feels like he might be uncomfortable so once I get my voice back I'll have to ask what his—

Sapnap  
'IM JUST TRYNA GET MY DICK WET INSIDE UR MOTHER WHICH U PROB DONT UNDERSTAND BC UR JUST DREAMS DUMBASS LITTLE WHORE' 3:18 pm

So we've chosen violence. 

I manage to type out:

'OK ATLEAST HE CAN MAKE A GIRL CUM MAYBE YOU SHOULD PUT AN AIRPOD IN THE NEXT TIME U HAVE SEX AND HAVE HIM GUIDE YOU THROUGH IT YOU FUCKI'

Before I finish, my phone is lifted right out of my hands. I look up, pouting, protesting. Clay looks oddly... calm. 

"That's enough." He repeats, quiet, tense, final, putting my phone into a drawer in his desk.

I squint at him. Who does he think he is? Taking my phone like I'm some kind of petulant child that— I pause, thinking about the text I was about to send, then purse my lips.

Fair. It's... it's probably fair. 

Clay pulls his headset off, his hand on my waist going even tighter, his other arm threading under my legs at the knees. Then, we're up. I latch on with my hands. I would yelp if I could, surprised at suddenly being... not seated. He carries me over to his bed, then drops me there. 

I part my legs, expectantly waiting for him to crawl in over top of me, but, he doesn't. Instead, Clay stands at my side, briefly combing his fingers through his hair, staring down at me. 

I tilt my chin back like a question and he folds his arms across his chest. 

"I—I— it— it— I know you and Sap are just joking. I know that." He starts, and my brow draws tight. "But it feels like flirting sometimes." He finishes. "And, I, I—I... well, uh, I need it to stop."

He sounds almost hesitant... nervous. I feel myself soften, guilt settling in my stomach that I made him feel that way; unsure of himself. I push my hands forward, grabbing one of his and holding it, then nod in affirmation.

I see the tension I was noticing start to fade from his expression as he nods back.

"Good. Glad we're on the same page." He says.

Clay then presses the hand I'm holding forward until he can grab my face. He tilts my chin up and doubles over, leaning in. He almost gets his lips on mine before I think better of it, and jerk away from him. The noise he makes... is embarrassing for him. 

He pulls back as though scorned, hurt and confusion warping his expression. I gesture vaguely to my throat, but he seems to understand.

"I don't care if I get sick. I want my kiss." He demands, leaning back in. 

This time I clap my hand over his mouth and push him away from me, shaking my head no. 

Clay pauses for a moment, staring me down, until I drop my hand off his face. 

"Are you telling me no? Like actually telling me no?" He asks.

I nod yes, and watch as his jaw ticks.

"Fine then. I'll go back to my computer kissless and open up my game kissless and rejoin my Discord call kissless." It's said in a teasing way, but I can hear some actual hurt buried in his voice. 

I whine as well as I can, pawing out at him until I manage to catch his hand. I draw it to my face, then kiss his knuckles. He makes a pleased noise that gets me to look up, so I kiss his knuckles again while maintaining that eye contact. 

Clay melts into a smile, hand I'm kissing pushing forward until he can run his thumb along my lip. It... gets to me. Suddenly, my legs are parting to make space for a man that I'd love if he'd get on top of me right now. I wish I had a voice to ask.

He notices it, eyes briefly flicking to watch. He drags his thumb down my lip, down my chin, until it's pressed to my throat. He keeps moving that hand, brushing it along the length of my body before it lands between my legs on one of my thighs and grips down. 

"I'll take care of you when I'm done, yeah?" He says, soft.

It's a question but... it's not. I nod in affirmation anyways. After that, he's finally turning walking away from me and going back to his computer. 

I feel... heated. Though, I don't know how much of that is the fever and how much of that is that fact that I want Clay to just fucking—

I puff a sigh. Thinking about it is not going to help.

...still. The warm, firm feeling of his hand on my thigh lingers in my subconscious. I wonder if he's going to be careful and attentive because I'm sick and he's been feeling jealous. He's already so attentive during sex. My stomach swings in excitement, desire buzzing beneath my skin.

I need a distraction, and I have no phone to provide it.

I get up, find my laptop, then flop back into Clay's bed. I have homework. I can do homework. I can focus on homework.

...I get on Youtube. 

I watch something entertaining, but not funny. I don't want to laugh and risk a coughing fit. I make it only half an hour before I get a Discord ping. I check it, and see it's from Sapnap. 

My eyes flit up, looking at the back of Clay's head like I'm going to get in trouble for talking to Sap before I refocus and open the message. It's a small one, a simple one.

'can we have a lil chitty chat?' 4:01 pm

I text back. 

'is this abt the flirting thing?' 4:01 pm 

'flirting?????'  
'?????????????????'  
'?????????????????'  
'no lol' 4:02 pm

'what then?' 4:02 pm

I bite my lip, unable to stop myself from typing further.

'is it just time for our weekly roleplay session, kitten?' 4:02 pm

I find myself glancing over toward Clay again. I should stop being stupid. It's just... funny. Sap ignores my message.

'so i need u to help set some shit up'  
'i wanna surprise my boy'  
'nd come visit w georgie'  
'u think u can help? 4:03 pm

I split into a grin, feeling giddy. I type back. 

'yeah fucking of course i can help' 4:03 pm

From there it becomes technicals, when he has time, when I have time, when I'll pick them up from the airport, the excuses I'll give Clay. We set a date in March, a little over a month away. Now, all I have to do, is make sure Clay's free that weekend, and make sure he doesn't figure it out.

Easy enough. 

I get distracted and invested in typing to Sapnap, losing awareness of what's going on around me. Until, Clay appears in my line of site, peeking his head around to look at my screen. My screen that is currently open to my DM's with Sapnap. I dart my hand forward, and close my entire laptop right in his face.

Clay turns to look at me, brow drawn tight.

"Why'd you do that? What was there that I wasn't supposed to see?" He questions, tense.

Of course it would be my luck that this happens directly after he's felt insecure. And double of course I don't have a voice to explain myself. I blink at him, swallowing nervously, hoping I can express innocence with my eyes, then gesture to my throat again. 

Clay stares me down a moment longer, searching my face, jaw ticking, then nods once and strides back to his desk. He gets into a drawer, lifts my phone out, the tosses it to me. I get it opened to notes before he even gets back to the bed.

I type: 'srey me and ellie were plotting ur birthday present', then angle the phone at him.

He cranes his neck to read it, then lands his eyes back on me. He only looks... more tense. 

"My birthday present? For my birthday? In August? You're planning something seven months ahead?" He questions.

I falter again. Shit. Maybe that was a bad excuse.

I look back down at the phone, trying to think quick, then type: 'did i say birthday? i meant valentines day'.

This time after Clay reads it he huffs. "Really?" He asks, looking unconvinced.

I nod, trying my absolute hardest to look innocent.

He finally relaxes... somewhat.

"That's weird. You guys are weird." He mumbles, side-eyeing me. 

I can tell he's not totally sated with that answer, and go in for the distraction, landing both hands on his arm. I watch something in his expression soften at the contact, before he speaks. 

"You sure you're not hiding messages from your secret boyfriend?" He questions. It's teasing, but... it's also a real question.

What an idiot. I would laugh if I could. Instead, I exhale, splitting into a grin. I nod at him. 

"It is your secret boyfriend?" He asks.

I nod again, and he starts to grin back. It's a comfortable way to tease and resolve the question without anyone getting upset or killing the mood. 

"Yeah?" He questions, dropping his hand to my thigh to push my legs open and make space for himself to settle. "What's better about him?" He asks.

I arch my hips, getting my legs parted further. Clay accepts, finally crawling into the bed and settling on top of me. He lines our hips up perfect, then presses what's between them, flush. 

"Does he do that better?" Clay asks.

I nod, tilting my head back and meeting his eyes.

His smile continues to tug his lips. 

"Yeah? He does? Well does he..." He drops one hand to the hem of my shirt, then pushes it inside, resting his palm flat on my stomach. 

"Does he do it better when he touches you like this?" He asks, quiet, tender.

I nod again, eyes fluttering as his hand pushes forward, dragging up the sensitive skin of my stomach to my ribs. 

Clay's eyes lower as well, his gaze locking to my lips. He leans in, head tilted, trying to slot our mouths together, but I collect myself enough to stop him. I lift my hand, clapping it over his mouth again, and shake my head no.

He's starting to look... frustrated. 

He grabs me at the wrist, pulling my hand from his face then pinning that arm above my head. 

"I don't care if I get sick." He reiterates. 

But I do, I shout at him inside of my head. I shake my head no again. 

Clay sighs, looking tense, but relents.

"Fine," he mumbles, "Can I kiss the rest of you?" He asks.

I nod. It's... safe, right? Safe—r. I'm not giving up sex for a cold. 

Clay's head dips after that. He trails kisses from my jaw, to my neck, down my chest, then to my ribs. One he reaches there he's kissing skin. He darts his tongue out, just to taste, then kisses down my ribs to my stomach. 

"I'll bet he kisses you just like this, huh?" Clay asks. 

My knees lift, legs parting even further as if on instinct. I wish I could tell him to just shut the fuck up and fuck me like only he knows how. Instead, I do what I can, tilting my hips up like a demand. 

"Needy, needy." He chastises. but his lips start to move, dragging kisses down my hips and to my thighs. 

There, he works slowly, kissing and nipping at the skin while I arch and take shuddered breaths. Suddenly, I'm almost thankful I don't have a voice, because I know I'd be begging him to fuck me, and that's... embarrassing for me.

Clay keeps kissing, up my thighs, following the cut off my waistband once he gets there. He pulls back one final time, looking up at me, then leans in, kissing and mouthing my pussy over the thin fabric of my panties. 

I talk with my body, because I have no voice to demand. I roll my hips against his face. It gets him to laugh, low, rumbled from where he's gotten himself buried between my legs. He connects with his mouth again, scraping his teeth along my hip before pushing forward with his hand. He uses it to move my panties to the side then—

Then—

Then my phone rings.

I make a noise of frustration, leaning over to slap it into silence. Who the fuck is— ah—

Clay continues, regardless of my phone, pleased noises low in his chest as he presses forward, kissing directly—

My phone rings again, as my eyes flutter shut. I tilt my chin back, swallowing, trying to just ignore it and focus on how good Clay feels moving between my legs. But, it's hard. The ringing is harsh, annoying, distracting. 

I lift my phone and see Ellie's contact. She's not even my roommate anymore, yet, she still finds a way to walk in on me. I dart a hand down to thread it into Clay's hair and tug, getting him off me. He pulls out, looking... annoyed almost. 

"What?" He asks, lifting onto his elbows and moving his hand to let my panties shift back into place.

I angle to phone to show him. He looks at it, then his eyes flit to the side to look at me.

"You need me to answer?" He asks.

I nod. It could be something important, and we can always have sex after. Plus... I still can't speak.

Clay huffs, lifting a hand and swiping the phone from me. He answers the call, puts it on speaker, then drops it to my stomach as Ellie says a greeting.

"Hey. It's Clay. She lost her voice so you have to talk to me or text her, y'know, the way people do with text." He says. 

I exhale, the closest I can get to a laugh, but he catches it, a proud smile curling his face. I drop my hand back down to his hair, running my fingers through it, trying my best to be soothing.

"Oh." Starts Ellie. "I'm old fashioned or something, I don't know. Anyways... um— so, y'know the roommate thing I mentioned?" 

Clay looks to me, I nod.

"She's nodding." He says.

This is a very ineffective form of communication. 

"Okay so, there's this buddy of mine that's looking for a place and said he wants to check out the apartment sometime, if you're free? I could give you his number." Ellie says. 

I purse my lips. That's faster than I thought. I mean, all the better for Ellie, if it means she can have someone take over her part of the lease that fast. 

"What d'you mean?" Clay asks, and I look down to see his brow is furrowed.

"Huh? What d'you mean what do I mean?" Ellie asks.

I love the way that I'm not even a part of this conversation. 

"Guy? Roommate? What?" Clay asks.

"Oh," Starts Ellie, "I want to find someone that can take over my part of lease. I mean— I'm not staying there, y'know. Kind of a... waste of money." 

Clay blinks, looking almost offended as he glances up at me. "I could—" he starts, but I reach down to smack the back of his head and swipe my phone back. 

He looks up at me, and I shake my head no. It's a no. 

A firm no. 

He squints at me. 

"Hello?" Ellie asks into the silence. 

I, obviously, don't respond. Then hang up the call. Clay and I continue to stare each other down, before I break the eye-contact and go to text her. 

'i can talk later'   
'just send his number' 4:49 pm

Then I'm back to locking eyes with Clay. He blinks at me. 

"Type it out." He says, gaze flicking to my phone. "Gimme your reason." 

I roll my eyes, but do it, sending it as a text.

'ur not moving in with me, u have a WHOLE house and I need to focus on school' 

Clay lifts off of me, moving to my side, fumbling to pull his own phone out. He lays flat on his back, then lifts his phone. I push on his arm and he cranes his neck to look at me. I point at his arm, demanding, and he seems to get it, making room for me to settle with my head on his chest. I don't care if we're about to fight. His arm curls around my upper back, hand brushing up my neck then hooking into my hair, petting at the base of my skull. 

He texts back.

'ok, i can respect that'   
'could i just take over the lease anyways?' 

I squint, tempted to look up him. I wish we could just... talk. 

'why?' 

'doesnt it seem like its the easiest solution?' 

'i mean'  
'ig'  
'but i dont want that. i dont like that. gives me a bad feeling. id feel like a burden'

'its np to me'

'thats not the point'  
'idk'  
'plus id probably get lonely'  
'its not tht hard for me to just... get a roommate'   
'if this guy is ellie's friend he'll prob be likable'  
'i like people she likes most of the time'

I feel his hand go stiff where it rests against me. 

'if thats really what u want i can help u look for a subleaser' 

I furrow my brow, confused.

'?????'  
'ellie alr found someone'

His hand gets tenser, dropping to squeeze my shoulder. 

'idk abt that'  
'maybe u should find someone on ur own yk?'

I squint... is this... 

'do u not like that its a guy?' 

His hand gets tenser, squeezing hard enough it almost hurts. 

'am i allowed to say yes?' 

I feel myself soften, rubbing my cheek to his chest. I'm not sure what's going on with him that made him get so... insecure, I guess, but it's really coming to a head today.

'of course'   
'just b honest w me'  
'and ill be honest with u'  
'2 way street' 

'ok. it makes me uncomfortable. im sorry. i know its wrong.' 

His hand stays tense.

'that's ok :-)'  
'u can help me find someone ur comfy with if it'll make u feel better?' 

It's... a little stupid, a little possessive, but if this is a boundary he wants to set, I can respect it. It's not that hard to respect. 

His hand relaxes, shifting back up to pet my hair. 

'that would make me feel better :)'

I barely read the text before my phone is plucked out of my hands and Clay's flipping me to my back again. He crawls over top of me, burying his face in my neck and mouthing at my skin. I lift my hands to hold his shoulders. 

"Thank you." He mumbles. I pat him, and he shifts to settle between my legs. 

"You're— you always call me a good man." He says, then presses a kiss to my neck. "But you're a good girl too." He says, swiping his tongue out. "Such a good girl." He sighs out, pressing one more kiss to my neck before his mouth moves to my shoulder.

I squeeze with my thighs, breath hitching. Back to what we were doing then.


	6. heat (smut, plot)

God, Clay always feels so good on top of me like this. 

I tilt my head back, making room for him to press in further, eyes fluttering. His tongue doesn't feel as overwhelmingly hot as it usually does, but it's still enough to make me shiver. His mouth is demanding in it's movement. I can feel the trail of small nipped bruises forming as he drags his lips down my neck, to my shoulder, until he's back to my stomach. 

He wastes no time. 

"Lift." He demands, fingers hooking into my panties at my hips and tugging.

I wish I could tease him for it. Needy man. 

Still, I arch my back, making sure my ass is off the mattress. Clay gets my panties off in one motion as I drop my hands to the hem of his shirt that I'm wearing. Before I can even try to tug it off, he grabs me at the wrist, stilling my movement. 

"No, baby." He mumbles out, tugging it back into place. He lifts onto his knees, eyes flicking down my body to watch himself play with bottom of the shirt.

"You know... you always look so good dressed up in my clothes. I'm just gonna fuck you in this, yeah?" He says, then looks up to meet my eyes.

I feel myself fluster, but nod. 

"Good girl." Clay mumbles, then pushes the shirt up until it's just above my belly button. 

Once I'm exposed he... stares. His eyes flick down the length of body, as he lands a hand on my stomach. He presses into the soft flesh there, playing with the way it gives to his pressure, before he drags his thumb down to my hip. 

His eyes flick back up. 

"Am I allowed to kiss you yet?" He asks, moving until he can just barely brush against my pussy with the tip of his thumb.

My breath catches in my throat, but I shake my head no. I'm steadfast on this one. 

"Okay." Clay says with a small sigh, then pushes his thumb forward to drag through my slick.

I whimper, head tilting back to press into the pillows. Why is this overwhelming. I want to make noise. I need to make noise. 

I can't make noise.

Clay's head dips back down, his mouth landing on my stomach and trailing kisses to my hip as his thumb circles my clit. On my hip, he nips, hard sucking down a harsh bruise. Harsh enough it hurts. 

I dart a hand down to land in his hair to try and tug him off, but he ignores my movements and instead kisses lower. He gets his mouth on my thighs, then nips there. My thighs tense, legs trying to curl up and away from his demanding mouth as he bites down and dots hickeys across my skin.

He bites again and I exhale, sharp. I actually pull his hair, hard, trying to get him off. I feel him smile as I do.

"What's wrong? Did it hurt?" He asks, grinning. "You can just tell me to stop if it hurt." 

I swallow, rolling my eyes at him. 

"What was that?" He starts, "I didn't hear you say anything? Guess it must be okay." He says, then gets his mouth back on my thigh. 

This— ah— this asshole. Ow— 

I smack the back of Clay's head like a warning before I tug his hair again.

This time, he's laughing as he pulls off. 

"Fine. Fine. No more biting. Fine." He mumbles.

I look back down as his lips reconnect with my thigh. This time, his mouth is warm and light, following the dip of my thigh up almost teasingly slow. He's looking up at me, meeting my eyes while I watch him move.

I tilt my hips like a demand. Faster baby. Come on. 

I feel his lips twitch to smile where they're pressed to my skin, then, he pulls back. He uses the thumb he was stimulating me with to hold me open. The cold air hits everything flushed and sensitive, cooling it down now that he has it exposed.

With me on display like that... Clay's eyes leave my face, instead locking between my legs to watch my pussy clench on air, needy for him to be inside of it.

I wish he was fucking me. Come on, Clay. 

I tilt my hips again, squirming against the mattress, turning my face into my shoulder. This type of begging might be even more embarrassing than the verbal kind. 

Clay watches me do it, brows lifting, tongue dragging along his lower lip. 

"You're so loud, baby." He mumbles, then looks up at me. "Your treat, since you're under the weather, you want daddy's cum now, or tongue, first?" 

I glare at him for that. Daddy. Calling himself daddy. 

...I stick my tongue out at him. It's stupid, but it's what I do.

Clay's brows lift, then he nods, leaning in. 

"Tongue it is." 

He moves his other hand between my legs, getting me spread open for himself. He leans in, keeping his tongue flat, then drags it through my pussy, slow, just to taste. He lets out a pleased hum as my breath hitches.

"So warm baby." He pulls back to breathe out, before pressing right back in.

I'm too lost in the sensation of his tongue applying the perfect pressure on my clit to focus on his words. It's so good. It's so— it's— 

I blink, slow, eyes rolling back, thoughts going fuzzy, as I feel the tips of Clay's fingers press in between my legs. He circles my entrance like a warning, before two of his massive fingers sink into me, stretching me out. I pulse immediately, trying to drag his fingers deeper as he takes time to curl them up just right, mouth still planted on my clit.

I can feel the heat and arousal numbing my body, lost in sensation of Clay's touch.

He feels so good on me.

I take another labored breath, moans I can't produce heavy in my throat. I manage to whine, body pulling tight as he makes an intentional movement, pushing in with his fingers particularly harsh. 

I can't keep my eyes open.

My head lolls back on my shoulders, a near oppressive heat blooming across my skin and overtaking my body. Suddenly, Clay's hand is off of me, and his weight on the mattress is shifting. 

"I'm sorry." He mumbles, careful.

I crack my eyes open to stare at him, panting, hips tilted to present as he drags his shirt off, then pushes his sweats down and off, until he's just in boxers. 

"You just feel so fucking good, baby." He starts, dipping his thumb between my pussy lips to keep pressure on my clit. "I can't— I'm just thinking about how you're gonna feel on my cock. You always feel so fucking good. I don't wanna wait any longer." He admits.

Clay pushes his boxers down, until his cock springs free. He grab the base of his shaft, settling between my legs until he can press the head of his cock to my pussy. He drags it against me as I clench on air, grinding the head of his cock against everything sensitive, soft, and wet with a pleased sigh. 

"You feel—" Clay sighs, eyes briefly fluttering shut. "God you feel— so it's so—" He pushes forward with his cock, pushing just the tip of into the entrance of my pussy, then pulling it back out, repeated. 

"It's so fucking warm. Such a good girl, with your tight little pussy for me." He praises.

I blink at him, slow, then roll my hips to force his cock to rub against me. This is... a lot. It feels so good to have him flush against me, but I want him locked inside, filling me up. I try my hardest to whine again. It... somewhat comes out. 

Clay laughs. "Yeah? You want it that bad?" He teases.

I take a heavy breath, then nod, clenching on air. I do. I do want it that bad. It's hard to think with how bad I want it. 

Clay rolls his hips against me before he's gripping the base of his cock again. 

"Ready?" He asks, and I nod, loose and slow.

This time, he guides in the head of his cock directly into me, before slowly pushing the full length inside. He lets out a shuddered exhale, eyes rolling back, look of bliss apparent on his face. I only watch for a minute before my eyes flutter shut. 

The heat of arousal is creeping across my skin, heavy, leaving me numb and... and... I....

I manage to slowly blink my eyes back open, looking up to study Clay's face. He's blissed, snapping his hips against me, but I don't... I'm not.... 

I blink again, heat and numbness creeping across my face. I— am I— I don't—

My eyes open wide, a small panic settling in my chest. I part my lips, drawing in a sharp gasp. I can't feel my body— 

Arizona.

I can't say it. I can't say anything. 

My breath quickens, until it's heavy, labored, sharp and rapid. I watch something in Clay's expression quirk, his brows twitching inward as he watches my face.

Arizona. 

Arizona.

My eyes roll back into my head. I feel nothing, then I see black.

***

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon baby, c'mon. You're alright. C'mon." 

I can hear Clay's voice, panicked, but I can't quite place it. I can't quite place myself. I have a moment where I feel numb, before there's a rush of sensation.

I'm cold. I'm really cold. I'm shivering hard enough to hurt, my teeth clicking together with the effort. 

I feel myself move, and hear Clay let out a shuddered breath. His hands are on me, I now notice, and they go tight, tighter.

"Baby? Baby c'mon, you're alright. I'm right here. I've got you. You're okay, right?" Another shuddered breath. "Let me know you're in there. Please." 

I try to touch him, fighting my eyes to open. I don't make much progress. I get squeezed tighter. I finally notice he's pressed flush to my back, and something cold and smooth sits under my ass. I'm also wet. 

Like soaking wet. 

There's water hitting my face. Ice cold.

"Baby please—" Clay begs out again, followed by a sharp breath and another painfully tight squeeze around my body.

I focus, mustering everything I've got, and manage to lift my hand to his where it rests on my body. I touch it, pressing with all of the force I have, and listen as Clay breaks behind me.

"Oh thank fucking God—" Falls from his mouth, followed by a whimpered breath, then I feel his face burying in my neck. 

"I'm sorry. I'm so— you have a fever— really bad— you blacked out— this is the best thing I could— I'm so sorry—" 

I manage a noise of reassurance, barely collected enough to open my eyes. We're sitting in his shower, me in his lap, him propped against the wall, with the water on full blast, full cold. 

"Here— I have— I need to take you to the hospital but you need to take this first— open your mouth." Clay starts again, fingertips pushing forward to land on my lips, slipping a pill between them.

I feel Clay's mouth on my cheekbone, his everything flush to mine, and manage to swallow the medicine before everything goes black again.

***

This time when I wake up, it's with a sharp breath. My eyes fly open, then immediately squint shut, adjusting to bright white and sterile light. I look down, following something attached to my wrist, and figure out I'm on a drip. I'm in a hospital.

How fucking— what just happened? And what time is it? And—

I look around for a minute, then fumble with my hand, finding the buzz to call a nurse. The last thing I remember is Clay and I in bed... then...

I see a flash of an ice cold shower, slowly piecing things together, before an aloof-looking nurse steps into my room.

"Oh, good, you're up." She says, muffled from her mask, walking up to me, eyes barely flicking up to look at me before they're back down to her clipboard.

"How're you feeling, hun?" She asks, not looking at me, leaning into my space and writing a few notes. 

I don't answer, because I can't answer.

She pauses to stare me down with furrowed brows, then looks at the clipboard again. She laughs. 

"Right. You lost your voice. Thumbs up for I'm okay or thumbs down for I'm going to pass out again." She says.

I search internally, then muster a weak thumbs up. The nurse beams. 

"Good! That's good." She writes something down. "That's good." My arm gets grabbed and squeezed in a way I don't understand, then the nurse is stepping away. 

"I'm going to let the doctor know you're ready to be seen. Might be a bit, though." She points with her pen. "Your personal affects are sitting on that tray to your right, you think you need any help getting it?" 

I glance over to a small table attached to the bed. There sits my phone, a bottle of water, and one of Clay's hoodies. I look at myself, and realize I'm dressed, though, I don't remember it happening.

I give the nurse another thumbs up, then lean over to grab my phone.

She seems to accept it as response enough, because she slips back out of the room. I drop my phone in my lap, then go for the hoodie. I try to put it on, quickly realize I can't because of the shit sticking out of my arm, then put on my chest like a blanket. I ball the fabric up near my face, burying into it and dragging a massive inhale.

Clay wore this. Definitely. There's the distinct smell of outside and food and him stuck to the fabric. My eyes flutter shut as I draw in another massive inhale. It's grounding, necessary. He's a smart boy. 

I take a massive swig of the water, then open my phone, surprised when I see no notifications. I go to text Clay.

'hi u can stop freaking out im okay' 9:13 pm

It's read instantly. 

'what wrong?'  
'ru gonan be ok?'  
'when can u leav?' 9:13 pm

I huff, a smile tugging my lips.

'slow down and type right'  
'im fine'  
'waiting for doc to show up and tell me whats wrong' 9:13 pm

'ok keep me posted.'  
'im sorry'  
im really sorry i wasnt thinking'   
'i could tell u were warm i should have known'   
'im so sorry' 9:14

I see he's still typing, and message back before he can self-flagellate himself into oblivion. 

'i dont wanna hear another apology'   
'its not ur fault''  
'and i'm okay :-)' 9:14 pm

The typing stops for a moment, before he sends back.

'ok. im sorry. just kinda freaked'   
'was making scenarios in my head that were bad'   
'just looking at u like that was... terrifying' 9:14 pm

I melt for just a moment, my lower lip puffing out. I open the camera, force myself to grin, beaming at the phone, then take a picture and send it off. 

1 Attachment  
'see :-)'  
'im okey' 9:15 pm

Before I can see his response, the door to my room opens again. There's a man in a white coat that I don't recognize that enters, but he looks... kind, I guess. Must be my doctor.

"Nice to meet you—" He reads my name off poorly, mispronounced in ways I didn't even know it could be, then looks up at me with a smile. "—and I'm your Doctor, Dr. Castor. I know how to say your name, by the way, that was my attempt at a joke, so stop looking so concerned." 

I pause, realizing I have my face scrunched up, then let it relax. 

"How're we doing today?" He starts, then points at me. "With that fever, not good, I can presume?" 

I nearly smile. I lift my fingers to my throat, then honk, the way I've been doing all day. It's the most noise I can make. 

The doctor nods. "Right, right, right. Lost your voice, too."

He grabs something from a cabinet, sits down in a chair, then uses his feet to propel himself toward me.

"Say 'ah'." He guides, leaning in with a wooden stick. 

So I do, getting poked, prodded, and looked over. Once the doctor is done, he reads his notes, looks at me, reads his notes, then looks at me. He says that I have some kind of trauma in the back of my throat, that led to some kind of infection, that led to a high fever, that led to me passing out, followed by a bunch of medical terms and names of medicines that he's going to give me that I could not be assed to understand.

Then, I get leveled with a... fatherly... stare. 

"So... you're in town visiting your boyfriend." He says, nodding, reading the sheet.

I nod back. Clay must've checked me in.

"He must be an... enthusiastic... gentleman." The doctor says.

I nod again, cautious. 

"Next time you visit him, ask him to be a bit less enthusiastic, or you might be seeing me again with similar injuries." He says, brows raised.

I feel a bit fuzzy, processing the statement. The second I understand, I duck my head, embarrassment burning hot on my face.

Oh my God. It was Clay's dick.

I nod.

"Great!" The doctor says. "We'll keep you another couple hours just to make sure that fever is stabilized, then we can send you off. Is there someone who can get you and take you home and everything? You shouldn't be driving or going to work on your current medication, there's some good stuff in there that's gonna make you feel great, but it's gonna be hard to focus." 

I look up again, then nod. Clay can probably get me, and... probably take me home. Maybe. 

Maybe I won't go home.

If I'm supposed to take off work this week... that must apply to school, too, right?

The doctor nods at me one more time before I'm left alone in the room. I get my phone back out, then text Clay:

'nvm u can apologize'  
'doc said ur dick did this 😫' 9:29 pm

':('  
'im really really really sorry'   
':(((((((((' 9:29 pm

I smile reading the response, something warm and fuzzy settling in my chest.

'im just joking'  
'about the apologize part'  
'not the dick part'  
'ur dick actually did do this' 

Then, before I can stop myself:

'why arent you here with me?' 9:30 pm

I curl up after sending it. It's... stupid... needy. But I'm genuinely... I don't know. Why isn't he here? 

'not allowed b/c covid'  
'only immediate family allowed in'  
'im camping in my car in the parking lot tho' 9:30 pm

I split into a smile. Okay. Thats the best answer he could've given.

'oh im sorry big man'  
'u can just go home im gonna be hours i think' 9:30 pm

'i would sooner be shot dead than leave you here alone.'  
'ty for the offer tho :)' 9:30 pm

I suck my lower lip in, fighting off my grin. This... this dumbass. I continue to speak my truth.

'can i call u then? i dont like hospitals and i wanna hear ur voice' 9:30 pm

Seconds after the message is opened, I receive a FaceTime from Clay. I answer it, searching, desperate to see him. He looks... disheveled. His eyes are red, hair out of place, everything else looking similarly messed. His expression is severe, serious.

I immediately tab into our texts, sending a message before he can open his mouth. 

'hi cutie' I send.

I watch Clay's eyes flick up as he reads it, then watch his lips twitch, melting his expression into something softer. 

"Hey baby." He mumbles back, voice hoarse and rough. 

I frown. 'did i get u sick?' I text. 

He takes a moment to read before responding, then clears his throat. "Nah— nah." He sounds... a bit better. "I was just— y'know, crying my throat raw. Typical Saturday." 

I shouldn't laugh, but I do. 'ur baby :p' I text. 

He huffs when he reads it. "Yeah? At least my throat isn't so weak I get hospitalized from a couple minutes of throat fucking." 

I try to make a noise of protest, but nothing comes out. 'yeah? u get ur throat fucked often then?' I text.

Clay splits into a grin. "Yeah. Constantly. Just— dicks on dicks jammed down my throat. Every day." He teases. 

Talking with him like this... is easy. The time seems to go faster. He stays on the phone with me for hours, for the entire time I'm there, until the nurse from earlier comes back in and sets me free. I feel a bit woozy on my feet, but I get to standing, get the hoodie on, and walk out of the hospital with a goodie bag of medicine just after midnight. 

Clay's idling outside the exit, because I told him I was being discharged. At least I don't have to walk far. The second I land in the passenger seat, there are two massive hands on me, groping, grabbing, double checking that I'm there, that I'm okay. 

I grin as he makes noise, desperate, breathy, pushing forward to press a kiss to every inch of my face he can land his lips. 

Despite the way I'm trying to bat him off, Clay is relentless, peppering my face with constant kisses. He persists until someone behind us lays on their horn, then finally turns to glare at them. He still doesn't drive, instead lifting a hand to cup my face, dragging his thumb across my lips. 

"You don't feel so warm, now." He mumbles.

I nod into his palm, holding up my bag of medication. 

He grins, eying it. "Must be working." He says, searching my face.

We both go quiet, soft, taking a moment of tenderness to stare at each other and feel grounded, before the car behind us lays on their horn again. Clay lifts a finger to flip them off, but finally shifts into drive, and gets us out onto the road.

"Can I take you somewhere?" He asks, soft.

I lean in, until I can rest my head on his shoulder and nod slowly. 

He can take me anywhere.


	7. if she does it like this (plot)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter for 2day mamas 😩😫
> 
> playlist with every song in rtf (available on spotify) is
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4UxsNbGFCfRWTggVY4Idek?si=k5DRxcbUT-S_8WDNbq3O-w
> 
> And if i include more songs i add them to the playlist as i go

We're in the car for only a few minutes before I realize... I have no fucking clue where were going. I pull out my phone, type: 'where r we going' then realize I can't make Clay read it while he's driving. I pause, chewing my thumb, then get a brilliant idea.

I open Google Translate, plug my phone into the aux, then retype my message. 

"Where are we going?" Plays over the speakers, loud enough Clay flinches.

"What the fuck was that—" He starts, looking around.

I laugh silently, then type again. 

"Google Translate. I'm using it to speak." 

Clay turns to look at me, brief, before turning back to the road.

"You're a dumbass." He mumbles, but I can hear the humor in his voice. "And where we're going is a secret." 

I pout my lip, going to type again. "You're really gonna keep it from me? Your poor, sick, fragile, dying, nearly dead, fresh out the hospital, health bar depleted, girlfriend?" 

Clay laughs, brief, nose wrinkling with the effort. "Yes. I sure am." He says, simple. 

I guess I'll ask my next question. "How long are we going to be in the car, then?" 

Clay hums, head tilting. "Uh— I'd say like... another thirty—forty minutes." 

Oh. That's quite some time. "Can I music?" I type. 

"Wh—what? Yeah." He chuckles. "Of course you can."

I keep staring at him, inhibitions lowered due to my medication kicking in and making me a bit... looser, fuzzier. "Will you sing to me?" I type.

Clay pulls up to a red light, then fully turns to look at me, reaching his hand over to cup my face. I tilt into it, nuzzling against his palm. 

"If you want me to, I can. Just put something on." He says, soft, then leans in, pressing a kiss to my nose.

I pull back from it, expression warped into one of embarrassment, then go to search for music. I almost pick something sweet, that'd I'd die to hear him sing, something that will make me melt, but stop myself.

I'm picking something stupid.

I tap Shake It - Metro Station. 

The music plays for mere seconds, before Clay huffs, rolling his tongue in his mouth. "Fuck you." He says, simple.

I silently laugh, then go to type. 

"Sing it, cracker." Plays over the speaker, immediately followed Clay's head rolling back on his shoulders, and a guttural moan drawing out of his throat. 

"I'm not—" He starts, but I spam the speech button over and over, repeating my last typed phrase near constant.

"Tonight you're falling in love—" Clay finally mumble sings. 

I slap my hand over my mouth in surprise, euphoria rushing in, leaving me giddy. 

"Baby why are you fucking— this feeling's tearing me up— do you have a fucking humiliation kink? Why are you doing this?" Clay continues.

I'm beaming at this point, laughter burning in my chest as I watch him, hesitantly mumble singing the lyrics that I know he knows. He loved this song in middle-school. We loved this song in middle-school.

Clay takes a deep breath. "Now if she does it like this, will you do it like that?" He sings, fuller volume, more energy.

I thump into my seat, thrashing. I would be screaming if I could make noise. My little performance must amuse Clay, because his expression starts to soften, lips tugging into a smile.

"Now if she touches like this—" he leans into my space as he sings, even more energy, dropping a hand to my thigh and gripping down, "Will you touch her right back?" 

I know I have a stupid smile on my face, but I can see that he does too.

"Now if she moves like this—" he wobbles my leg near violently, "Will you move her like that? Come on—" 

Clay tilts his head back, then shout-sings the chorus. "Shake shake, shake shake, a-shake it!" 

My mouth is just open at this point, noises I can't make burning in my chest, mingled with the excitement. I move to dance along, but quickly get disoriented from the high of my medication and end up flopping back into my seat.

I look up at Clay, expression warm, just in time for him to look right back and pause his singing to beam a toothy grin at me. 

I'm happy. I'm really happy. 

***

"Did you know—" I hear Clay start.

I wake up... disoriented, still in the car. The last thing I remember is settling my head on Clay, feeling the timbre of his voice low in his chest as he sang along to whatever music I put on, then... falling asleep, apparently. 

I squint, eyes barely cracked open to look at Clay. 

"Oh good, you woke up— did you know—" He starts again, leaning into my space and unbuckling my seatbelt as I try to bat him away. "That—" He plants one hand on my waist, further leaning into my space. "—tilt your head for me." He mumbles.

I blink, slow, then do, tilting my head back to expose my neck. 

Clay lets out a pleased hum. "There are some amusement parks that are still offering private rides." He says, then leans in, planting his open mouth on my throat. 

He feels hot again, the way I remember his mouth feeling as his tongue swipes out against my skin. My breath hitches, hands lifting to his shoulders and eyes rolling back in my head. I'm not... following this conversation, honestly. 

He pulls back. "And they can do it on such short notice." He says, then smiles.

I blink at him, watching him retract into his own seat then open his door and hop out of his car. I sit there, trying to process, when suddenly my door is opened. I flinch in surprise, shivering as the outside wind brushes my skin. 

"I was thinking about this all week, then you— then— you're— you—" He looks hesitant, standing outside my door, "Y'know. You... got sick and I freaked out for a second and I was like— what if this is my last chance? You never know what's gonna happen, y'know— uh— obviously, I mean you just passed out and I was— we can— if you don't feel up to it though, we can just— I didn't—" 

Clay continues to ramble as I lift out of his car and walk up to him. He rambles until the second I lift to my tiptoes, clap my hand over his mouth, then kiss the back of it. I feel his lips warp into a smile under my palm, then see the smile as my hand pulls back.

An amusement park ride in the middle of the night? Who'd ever tell you no, big man. I nod, giving him a reassuring smile, then lean against him for support.

Clay exhales a tense breath. "Okay. Okay. Good, okay." He mumbles, wrapping an arm around me tight to keep me steady. 

He squeezes me once more, reaches into his pocket, puts masks on both of us, then he's guiding me forward. I silently observe, not just because it's all I can do, but also because I'm appreciating the moment. 

I want to remember. The cool night air, the moon hanging low in the sky, covered by clouds, Clay's hand, warm and firm on my waist, and this feeling of home, heavy in my chest. 

We reach a gate, enter it, get greeted by a too-chipper employee that I have a moment of feeling bad for. I look around, look up, specifically, staring at a ferris wheel. 

Oh, fuck you. I can't dance in the rain without getting chastised, but you can buy a private ferris wheel experience? Go fuck yourself, Clay.

I try to turn and glare at him, but find I'm already being stared at. His eyes are soft, happy, and I quickly have to look away. This is starting to get overwhelming, especially when I get looked at like that. As we continue to loiter, waiting for the ride to be ready, I pull out my phone. 

"I should kick you in the dick for this." I type.

Clay makes a noise of protest. "Wh— c'mon!" He yelps, but he's chuckling.

"Bitch boy buys a ferris wheel ride because he hospitalizes me with his dick? A tea, some candy, and some head would have sufficed." I type.

Clay grumbles, but I could swear I hear the ride attendant laugh. I duck my head, back to typing. 

"I'm joking. I like it. Thank you." 

"Yeah, yeah." Clay says, though his voice is lighter. He notices the employee can hear us, so leans in until he's next to my ear. "Just because you're sick doesn't mean I'm going to let you get away with saying anything you want." He mumbles, hand on my waist going tight.

I duck my head into his chest, feeling my face go warm. And just because I'm embarrassed doesn't mean I'm going to stop.

"I'm so sorry master did I speak out of—" Plays from my phone before Clay yelps, leaning in and grabbing it out of my hands, fumbling to turn the voice off. 

He looks at me, exasperated, as I smile back. If only he could see it.

"Don't call me that in public, people won't know it's a fucking joke, I don't—" He whispers to me, until the attendant walks up and addresses us.

"Everything's ready for y'all." She says, sounding half-humored, half-concerned.

Clay startles, eyes flicking up to her, down to me, then back up to her. "Uh— thank you— thanks." He says, hand going tight on my waist again to guide me forward.

I bite my lip, trying to stifle my mischievous mood as Clay guides me all the way up and into the ride. He sits first, gesturing to the other seat across from him. 

I'd laugh if I could. 

I look at him, brows lifted, then sit right down in his lap. Who does he think I am?

Clay makes a pleased noise, like he forgot this was an option, arms wrapping around me to hold me tight, then shoots the attendant a thumbs up. She closes us in, steps away, then moments later the ride creeps to life.

I go tense feeling it happen, more nervous than necessary. I poke at Clay's pocket, searching for my phone. I find his instead. Whatever, that works. I suck in my lower lip, rapidly typing in his password. As it unlocks, it opens to a conversation with Sapnap.

"Oh—" Starts Clay. "You don't need to read that— that's—" 

I scroll up, brow furrowed, starting to read it anyways. 

Dream  
'im freaking the fuck out'  
'do i call her? text her? just keep waiting?'  
'its been like a fucking hour and' 7:39 pm

Sapnap  
'it's gonna be fine man'  
'she's gonna be fine' 7:39 pm

Dream  
'she hasnt said anything'  
'i just love her so much dude'  
'it feels like i cant fucking breathe' 7:39 pm

Before I can keep reading, Clay's hand comes down, covering the screen. 

"You— you don't— it's not—" He mumbles. 

I lift my hand to cover his, squeezing as reassuringly as I can, before tilting my head back to look at him. He looks... vulnerable, in a way he often doesn't. In a way he often covers with his facade of being a living, breathing ego. His eyes glisten, bright, reflected in the moving light.

I pry his hand from the phone, careful, then close the messages. I navigate to Translate on his phone, open it, then type. 

"It's okay. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

Clay swallows, the vulnerability still heavy on his face, then nods. 

"I know." He mumbles. "Nick talked me through it." He says careful, then huffs a soft sigh. 

I lift Clay's phone again, navigating to Spotify to pick a song. If I can't speak, I'll let music do it for me. I tap Choking on Flowers - Fox Academy, and let it play, staring up at him.

He glances at me as it starts playing, brief, before glancing back up.

I can feel him shivering behind me, though, I know it's not cold enough for that. I don't understand why, but it feels like he's... holding himself back. I know he can be vulnerable, he's always been transparent about that and about his emotions, so I don't understand why he feels so... scared. 

I lower my lashes, turning until I can press my face into his neck. He takes a sharp breath, arms going tight around me, hands making soothing motions. We stay wrapped like that for a moment, until Clay breaks it.

"We're at the top. Two people at the top of the ferris wheel... might kiss or something... I dunno..." He says.

I pull back to look at him, then shake my head no. He pouts. I aggressively point to my throat.

"Fine." He grumbles, then lifts one of his hands, pulling his mask down to his chin.

He presses a kiss to his index and middle finger, then, sneering at me, pulls my mask down and presses them to my lips. I smile against the digits, darting my hands up to hold his wrist, holding his hand in place. I press a peck back, then tug his hand, lifting it to I can kiss down the length of his fingers, to his palm, to his wrist, then pause.

The music continues. 

I like the freckles on your arm. 

I grin, lips moving further, down his forearm, tracing a vein to the expanse of freckles that dot his skin. I press my lips there, blinking slow.

Clay's expression is soft again as he watches me. He carefully moves his arm back, until he can brush his thumb against my cheek, staring down at me. I nuzzle into his palm. He watches for only a second, before his eyes flick to the side to look out the window. I tilt my head to look as well. From here, we can see the twinkling skyline of the city, moving and stagnant lights, glittering into the darkness of the night, illuminating what's around them. 

"Kinda cool." Clay mumbles, but it sounds choked.

I turn my head again, looking up at him, at the line of his jaw, the soft light from outside coloring his face, the red still in his eyes from earlier, the tension simmering below the surface, and the way it's blanketed by the softness and affection he has for me.

Yeah. Kinda cool.

Clay catches me looking, gives me a half smile, then tugs both of our masks back into place. He tilts his head back again, and I watch his throat move with a heavy swallow. I furrow my brow, watching his expression, carefully studying the squint of his eyes, feeling the change in the way his chest rises and falls.

He's crying again, but he's trying to hide it from me. He'd probably be successful if it was anyone but me. 

I lift my hand to his chest, concern knitting my face. Why would he— not just— 

Tell me.


	8. reasoning (special)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: panic
> 
> POV is Dream’s.

'nick dude my girl fucking blacked out'  
'and i took her to the hospital but her fever was crazy'   
'idk what if something seriously fucked up happens' 7:34 pm

'woah what'  
'hospital???? blacked out???'  
'she ok??????' 7:37 pm

'idk she was sick and we were together and she got really hot and passed out and i checked her temp and it was like. Almost 104' 7:38 pm

'woah'  
'well u with her at the hosp now tho???'   
'she'll be fine brother people pass out all the time' 7:38 pm

'but'  
'what if shes not'  
'and i cant even be with her because of fucking covid'  
'they wont let me in bc of it'  
'im not immediate family'  
'and im just fucking thinking about the million things that can go wrong' 7:38 pm

'shit dude'  
'that seriously blows'  
'shes gonna be okay man. you know that' 7:39 pm

'i dont know that.'  
'im freaking the fuck out'  
'do i call her? text her? just keep waiting?'  
'its been like a fucking hour and' 7:39 pm

'it's gonna be fine man'  
'she's gonna be fine' 7:39 pm

'she hasnt said anything'  
'i just love her so much dude'  
'it feels like i cant fucking breathe' 7:39 pm

I can't— I can't fucking— I can't—

My chest is tight. My breaths are shallow, and quickening. I lift both hands, running them through my hair as my body folds. 

Shit— I need, I need help, I need someone, I—

I lift my phone and call Nick before I even realize I am. It rings once before it's answered. 

"Clay? Hello? You alright man? You okay?" Comes from the phone, then I put it on speaker, dropping it to my side.

I can't respond, throat tight as I draw in labored gasps. It must be loud enough that Nick hears it, because he comes back in softer, calmer. 

"Okay just— just uh— just breathe man. I'm right here. I'm with you." He says.

I swallow, heavy, and nod despite the fact that he can't see it. I continue to curl in on myself, muscles going taut as my body contorts. My breaths are harsh, fast, rapid enough the back of my throat and lungs burn. 

"She's gonna be okay. It's gonna be fine. It's gonna be fine, man." I hear Nick speak, barely.

My eyes roll back, then I squeeze them shut, a tremble starting in my chest as I collapse in on myself.

"It's just a fever. You said that yourself. Just a fever, yeah? It's gonna be okay. You're already at the hospital, it's gonna be okay. Yeah?" Nick continues, and I try to focus on it, despite the way my ears ring, sharp.

"What— what if— what—" I try to speak, but can't finish the thought, drawing in a sharp gasp.

"Breathe man, just breathe. I'm right here. It's gonna be okay." Nick continues, voice calmer than I've ever fucking heard it.

I steady myself, drawing in one long continuous breath.

"There you go. Breathe it out man, breathe it out." Nick says.

I nod again, despite the way he still can't see, then exhale. I keep the pattern, long inhale, hold, long exhale, repeated, while Nick speaks at me. I start to tune out his words. The important part is that he's here, not what he's saying. 

I take a final deep breath before I taper back into normalcy, eventually just breathing. Not calm, but not on the verge anymore. Between Nick and I, it's silent, completely silent. He breaks it.

"You there man?" He asks.

"Yeah." I manage to say. 

"You good?"

"Yeah. Yeah I'm— I'm alright now. I'm alright." I respond, though the words feel more like they're for me than him.

"Okay, okay good. Thought you were— thought you were gonna freak out." Nick says, then laughs.

I return the laugh, but it's weak. I lift my hands, dragging them through my hair, down my face, then holding them there. 

"I was. I was freaking out. I am freaking out." I say.

"Oh." Nick responds.

I notice my hands are trembling where they're pressed to my face and drop them, crossing my arms so I can hold them steady.

"Sorry I'm putting this on you." I start, mumbled, as loud as I feel comfortable. "I was—" I stop to blow a breath. "I'm not okay." 

Nick makes a noise. "No— it's not a problem. You can talk to me anytime man, you know that right? Anytime." 

I nod again, then laugh. "I'm nodding." I say aloud.

Nick laughs back. "You wanna explain to me what the fuck is going on any better? Like— what happened in detail?" 

I sigh, lifting one hand to rub my jaw to keep me calm as I recall.

"So like— I was— we were in bed, and we were fucking, I guess, whatever. And my girl— she lost her voice this morning, you remember that?" 

"Yeah." Nick responds. "Yeah, I remember that."

"So— she lost her voice and like— her throat was bugging her all morning and she was warm and shit but I thought— like I assumed it was just a cold y'know? She did some stupid—" I have to pause, feeling my lips pull into a smile as I picture it. Her. Moving in the rain, beckoning me to join, beaming the second my hands landed on her. I shake the thought. "—dancing in the rain shit last night. S'why I assumed it was a cold, but a cold doesn't fucking— get your temp to 104 so what if it's something awful like what if—"

"Yo, what if it's covid?" Nick interjects.

I pause for a second, swallowing. "Dude, don't fuckin' say that."

"I mean... it's a reasonable guess, right? High sudden onset fever?"

I— I didn't—

I take a sharp breath, thinking about that, chest going tight again.

"Don't— I don't—" I start to speak, rocking in my seat.

Nick butts back in. "Woah, woah, woah. Sorry man— calm down, it's fine. I'm sure she's fine." 

I take a shuddered breath, eyes squeezing shut tight, trying to calm down again. It takes a moment, but I get there.

"I just—" I start again, words choked. "I feel like such a—" I have to pause, a noise of frustration slipping from my mouth. "A fucking dumbass. Like, I know I love her. But, I didn't know I loved her like this man. I—I've never felt like this. Another person has never made me feel like this." I say.

There's a moment of silence before Nick speaks, quiet. "Like what?" He asks.

"Like I'm fucking drowning. Like I'm nothing. Like I'm everything. I'm—" I have to stop, rapidly carding my hands through my hair to soothe my nerves. "Like if something happens to her, I don't know what I'll do, who I'll be. How I can—" 

Take care of myself without her. Exist without her. 

"Uh—" Starts Nick, sounding hesitant. "Okay. I hear you." He says, then continues to speak, tone much more serious. "I hear you man, but can I be totally honest with you?" 

"Yeah." I say back, immediate. "Of course. Be honest. Always be honest." Though, I know what he's going to say, I've already said it to myself. 

I shouldn't think like that, shouldn't depend on another person like that. 

"I— that's kinda scary. And it's not healthy. Relationships aren't... like that. You know that. You should know that even better than me, dude. I know your history." Nick says.

I bend, a whine high in my throat. I know. I know. 

"I know." I say.

"I know you know. I know you know." He says back.

I know. I know. I fucking know. 

"I get it. It's wrong." I say, taking a shuddered breath. "But it's a feeling I have. It's there. I understand you shouldn't put all of your everything into another person's hands like that, that the—the dependency is unhealthy, but it's there. I'd—" I have to pause before I admit the next part. "I'd probably go off the fucking wall if I lost her." 

"Dude, I understand. I'm not judging you, and I get that you just feel that way, but— c'mon man. She's— I like her! I like her a lot! She's been a great to you and I like her, I do. But, you need to okay with the fact that shit happens. She could leave you. She could cheat on you, I don't think she will but, she could— you know how girls are."

I interrupt with a shuddered noise, hands going tight enough to hurt at even the thought. 

"Look—" Nick starts again. "I guess I'm just trying to say... shit happens. And, I need to know that my best friend is still going to be around if shit happens, yeah?" 

"Yeah." I mumble back, furling and unfurling my fists. I can feel that I'm crying, but ignore it. "Yeah, no, I'm sorry. I get that it's fucked up. But I'm— I'm just scared right now. I'm over-thinking." 

Nick laughs. "Yeah, dude, you do that a lot." He says. "And I mean— it's okay to feel shit like that but, don't say it to her. Don't tell her that fucked up stuff, alright? That's the line."

I'm nodding again before I can think. I know. I know I can't tell her that. 

"Yeah. I know. I got it under control." I say, mumbled. I collect myself before speaking again. "Thanks man, you saved my ass." I say, then laugh. "I love you."

Nick laughs back. "I love you too. You're gonna be fine. She's gonna be fine." 

A smile tugs my lips. "Yeah. I hope so." I say, then hang up the call.

I find myself silent, staring at my hands where they sit, clenched, on top of my thighs. 

When did I become this? This is what I was fucking— afraid of, when she first told me her feelings. The power dynamic. I'm not ready to lose her under any circumstance and that's... that's fucked up. 

It's fucked up.

I'm only okay because I haven't told her I feel that way, haven't put that pressure on her. But, what if I do? What if it slips?

Am I gonna be— fucking— every other twenty-something year old douchebag asshole that gaslights his girlfriend?

If she looked at me and said, 'you hurt me', 'you disappoint me', 'I'm leaving you', would I be— would I be alright? Could I let her leave?

I flip my hands so they're palm-side up, unfurling them and studying my fingers and the way they twitch to tense into fists.

She wouldn't leave me.

Fuck. I can't— I can't think like that. 

I have to close my eyes, fighting to steady my breathing again. I try to stretch, relax, rolling my shoulders back and settling into my seat.

I'm in— I'm in so fucking deep for this girl. She's absolutely it for me. I give her the power to destroy me, freely, with a smile and kiss, like it's nothing to me.

My eyes open back up as I lift my phone, checking the time. It's been over an hour. Do I call? Do I text? What's worse— the way too clingy boyfriend, or the aloof boyfriend? I need to know if she's okay, I should text her— no— I should give her space. She'll text me when she wakes up

I won't text her.

But what if she's confused when she wakes up, what if she thinks I don't give a shit? What if this is our last chunk of time together? What if she left me tomorrow? Would I have done everything I've wanted to do with her? Shown her everything I want her to see?

I'm googling something before I realize I am— amusement park rides. 

It's so fucking stupid when considering the severity of my emotions, but it's held my interest lately. I want to see her, see her excitement, the light in her eyes. I want to feel her heart beat in her chest, experience it with her. 

I call a place, rent a ferris wheel, then put my phone back down. I grab my seat adjustment, tilting my seat all the way back until I'm nearly laying down. I stare at the ceiling of my car, spaced out, trying to sort my thoughts, lost for hours. 

Stupid— that was stupid. Why did I do that? I— no. It's fine. I'm sure it's fine. Maybe I should cancel it? 

I feel my phone buzz, and freeze. I hope it's her. I unlock it and open the message, but stay paused. What if it isn't her? 

I flip the phone, and it finally feels like I can breathe. 

It's her.

'hi u can stop freaking out im okay' 9:13 pm

I fumble in my haste to reply.

'what wrong?'  
'ru gonan be ok?'  
'when can u leav?' 9:13 pm

I swallow, watching the messages get read, frozen until I get a response.

'slow down and type right'  
'im fine'  
'waiting for doc to show up and tell me whats wrong' 9:13 pm

So she still doesn't know what it is. It could be anything.

'ok keep me posted.'  
'im sorry'  
im really sorry i wasnt thinking'   
'i could tell u were warm i should have known'   
'im so sorry' 9:14

I send that much, then start to type my next message: 

'im losing my fucking mind even thought of losing you is too much you mean ev'

But stop as she replies,

'i dont wanna hear another apology'   
'its not ur fault''  
'and i'm okay :-)' 9:14 pm

I delete the message, taking a shuddered breath. She's okay. It's okay. She's okay. I take second to collect myself before messaging again.

'ok. im sorry. just kinda freaked'   
'was making scenarios in my head that were bad'   
'just looking at u like that was... terrifying' 9:14 pm

It takes a moment for her to reply, but once she does, I'm face to face with her. Her face. 

1 Attachment  
'see :-)'  
'im okey' 9:15 pm

My eyes flick, rapid, like I need to memorize the curve of it, the shape of it, where it connects to her neck, the way her lips part, the softness of her cheeks, the arch of her nose, the color of her eyes.

Fuck me. I'm in deep.

I press the phone to my chest, taking a few more steadying breaths, more okay now that I've seen her.

I'm okay. She's okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok sorry i go back to writing crackfic again i just have an aching desire to write some angst


	9. service (fluff, smut)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw i have a discord server now
> 
> https://discord.gg/wkzhdhJSbC
> 
> come say hi i swear im nice :3c

Something is wrong with Clay, but, without my voice, I'm not brave enough to ask, the way I usually would be. 

The rest of ride goes in silence, me cradled against his chest, pretending he's not crying behind me. Once the ride ends, he forces a laugh.

"Did you like it?" He asks. "I mean— I know it was more for me, but I hope you liked it, too."

I smile, but it's disingenuous. I turn, patting his pockets and swap our phones back. I type on mine.

"I liked it."

"Good, good." Clay says, then lifts us both to standing. 

I keep myself settled into his side, starting to feel a bit more... tired, weak. Though, I suppose it's reasonable that I feel that way. I've been through a lot today. And, it's— I check the time— nearly 3 am. 

Nearly 3 am?

I tug Clay's sleeve. "Go home? Me tired." I type.

He huffs a brief laugh. "Yeah. Why are you talking like that? Just type it all out." He says.

"Goo goo ga ga." I type back. He squeezes me for it. 

We wander back toward his car, together, his hand firm on my waist. Though, questions burn in my head and at the base of my throat. Why were you crying? And more importantly, why were you hiding it? 

I shake the thought once we get to the car and Clay opens my door for me. I settle in, careful, and immediately snag the aux cord before he can even hop into the driver's seat.

"Got something real good?" He asks, bemused, as he slides into his seat.

I look up at him, confused.

He stares back. I tilt my head like a question. He seems to catch that I don't understand what he means.

"Oh— because like— you already grabbed the aux. I was— was wondering if that meant there was a specific song you were rushing to play." 

Oh. I shake my head no, opening Spotify, and quickly create a queue of assorted music. I just wanted background noise so that I can focus on that instead of this... whatever is going on with him.

I expect tension, but I'm surprised when it isn't there. Clay seems comfortable, constantly touching me, singing along, cracking jokes, looking over at me, totally relaxed for the entire drive. Once we get close to home I start to question myself.

Maybe I imagined it? Maybe it was nothing? Maybe I was just over-thinking. He seems... fine.

We pull up to the last stop sign before we get to Clay's house. His hand darts over, snagging my phone, and quickly unlocking it. I watch him do it with a furrowed brow, trying to lean in and see what he's doing. He finishes before I can see, but I immediately know what he's done. 

I hear the song on the radio switch. I look up at him with a pout. I liked the song that was playing.

"C'mon—" Clay starts, with a toothy grin. "Let me have my pick. You've been playing your music all day."

I roll my eyes, but relent, settling my head on his shoulder. 

Clay's arm lifts, curling around my upper back. He rubs soothing circles with his thumb to my shoulder, and as the lyrics roll in, his voice does as well. 

"Oh baby, oh man." Clay starts, voice low, rumbling in his chest.

I dart my eyes up to look at him. He's staring back, watching me react to him.

"You're making me crazy, really driving me mad." Clay continues.

His lips warp into a smile as he watches me fluster, then he turns his focus to road, tapping the gas to lurch forward. 

"That's all right with me, it's really no fuss." He tilts his head down to look at me again. "As long as you're next to me—" He blinks, slow, like a cat showing trust. "—just the two of us." He finishes with a tight squeeze.

It's at this point that I have to close my eyes, face burning hot with embarrassment. This is... overwhelming. He's singing at me, and I can't say anything back, that, on top of the fact that I have no clue what's going on with him, leaves me confused, conflicted. 

I take a few shuddered breaths, trying to regain some semblance of control, before I manage to blink my eyes back open just in time to watch Clay pull into his driveway and park.

"My, oh my, what a girl—" Clay sings, voice low and careful, now able to fully focus on me.

His hand moves off my shoulder, to my face, then squeezes my cheeks in. I pout for it, our eyes locked together. His hand loosens, then he starts to lean in, careful, tentative.

I almost let him, lost in the affection. 

I remember myself, and pull back, out of his hold. The hurt that flickers his face for just a moment seems... too genuine. I shake my head no, staring him down, despite the guilt. It's a no. No kissing. He should get that by now.

His expression settles back into barely-more-upset-than-neutral.

"You're really committed to the no kissing thing." He says, then squeezes my face with his hand, running his thumb along my lips. "I'm going to get my kiss once we're inside. I'll convince you." He says.

My lips twitch to grin at him. No the fuck he won't, but, it'll be cute to see him try. 

Clay pulls into a smirk, leaning back from me, then hopping out of his car. I go to follow, lifting from the car to my feet. I immediately waver, eyes briefly fluttering, going-light headed. 

I must make a noise, or look terrible, because Clay appears in front of me. He wraps an arm around my waist, then holds me flush to his body.

"I've got you." He mumbles, dragging his free hand down my back, to my ass. 

Clay grabs, squeezes like he can't help himself, then drifts that hand to my thigh. There, he grips harsh, lifting me into his hold with my legs wrapped around his hips and my face buried in his neck.

He carries me inside like that, all the way up the stairs, then finally tilts. He lowers me to the side of his bed. I unlatch from him, taking a seat at the edge. Before I can lift my foot to take my shoes off, Clay drops to his knees and starts to do it for me, carefully unlacing them.

I have to take my phone out, face hot with embarrassment. "You don't have to. I can." I type.

"I mean, I'm the one that put them on you, might as well be the one to take them off." He responds, quick.

I guess that's true. I tense my thighs together, watching him handle me like I'm something fragile about to break. He gets the first shoe off, then pauses. He wraps his fingers around my ankle, squeezing lightly, then leans in, pressing a kiss to my thigh at my knee. He looks... pretty, almost, down on his knees for me. 

His eyes flick up, glancing at me through his thick fray of lashes, before flicking back down. I feel my breath catch for just a moment, before he's dropping my leg and moving to the next shoe.

I lift my phone again, hesitant, then switch to the notes. I don't want the robotic voice reading this one off for me. 

'are you going to take off everything you put on me?' I type, then push the phone in front of his face before I can stop myself.

Clay pauses, holding my other ankle as my shoe slides off, reading the message. He stays focused on the phone, reading for what feels like entirely too long, before his eyes flick to my face and fix there. There's an... intensity to them that makes my breath hitch.

"Do you want me to?" He questions, though, his hand is already sliding up the length of my leg with intent.

I nod, feeling small.

Clay's head tilts, a desperate want starting to form in his expression. 

"Are you sure? Do you think you'll be okay?" He questions again, but his hand doesn't stop, sliding all the way up my thigh, fingertips pushing into the bottom of my shorts. 

I nod again, wishing I could speak.

Clay keeps staring me down, held tight, held back, despite my nod. He takes one heavy breath, then speaks. 

"Okay." He says, low, soft. "I'll take care of you." He leans in, pressing another kiss at my knee.

This time, he doesn't pull back. Instead, he kisses higher, lips brushing up my thigh. 

"I'd love to make you feel good, baby." He breathes out. "But if you don't feel fucking perfect, you will tap me. Twice. I need you to confirm that." He says, then lifts one of his hands to grab mine, guiding it to his shoulder. "Show me." He says, looking up at me again, eyes piercing. 

I nod, then tap in a rhythm. It's more than twice. 

"Okay." He mumbles, finally breaking the eye-contact. 

Clay lifts to standing, towering above me. I lean forward for it, wrapping my hands around his hips as he drags his shirt off. 

I press forward, nuzzling my face into his lap, pleased when I feel his cock jump against my cheek. He takes a shuddered breath, dropping a hand to pet my hair, rocking against my face for less than a second.

He tugs my hair. "Lay down. Let me take care of you." He says.

I tilt my head back, just to make sure he can see me roll my eyes. He grins back at me, looking awfully smug, guiding me further back. I let him, let him guide me until I'm laying down, shifting up the mattress to make room for him.

Clay stays up, staring down at me. He takes a heavy breath, before it seems like he snaps back into his body, lifting one knee to lift himself to the mattress. 

His hands are careful, though demanding. They land at my hips, hooking into the waistband of my shorts and tugging them down. I lift my hips to help, watching Clay watch. I hope I look good, and, if the sharp inhale he takes means anything, I do. 

"—perfect girl—" He mumbles, quiet enough that I question if I'm even supposed to hear it. "—my fucking girl—" Passes his lips like breath. 

He finally looks up at me again, and I fluster. 

"I cant believe you're mine." He says, with a severity that makes me ache. "You fucking know it, too. You're mine." 

I swallow my nerves, managing a nod, unsure of his goal.

"Good girl." He sighs out, shifting to line his hips up between my legs. "You're my good girl." He says, then tilts his hips, pressing his cock between my legs.

My head rolls back, eyes fluttering as I feel it, despite the fact that we're still over-the-clothes. 

Clay rolls his hips. "You feel that? You feel what you do to me baby? How you left me." He sighs out, pushing his hands forward to drag them up the sensitive skin of my stomach, lifting my shirt as he goes.

I look at him, considering, through my lashes. Right. He didn't get to finish earlier. He's probably at least... a little frustrated.

He continues, pushing my shirt up until it's over my breasts. I expect him to go in on them, but he doesn't. Instead, he comes down, pressing our bodies flush, skin to skin. He presses his face into my neck, breath hot as he drags his stubble down the exposed skin to my shoulder. He presses a single kiss, nearly feather light. 

It's gentle, teasing almost. 

I lift a hand, carding it into his hair and guiding his head in. He laughs at me for it.

"You want another kiss?" He asks, then presses a kiss just as light.

I twitch in frustration, tightening my hand in his hair, trying to get him to treat me a bit rougher, bite down, kiss harder.

"So pushy." He mumbles, then immediately presses an open mouthed kiss to the tendon of my neck, dragging his teeth against the skin. "I'm trying to be gentle, baby. Let me." He sighs out.

For that, I let my hand go loose, dragging it from his hair to the back of his neck, rubbing circles with my thumb.

Once I loosen up, he moves, dragging his lips to my shoulder, kissing there, then down my bunched up shirt. He looks up at me before he kisses my chest, between both of my breasts. I hold the eye-contact, knees lifting like an unspoken demand. 

I want him inside. I want him between my legs.

His lips twitch to smile where they're pressed to my skin. He pulls back, eyes focusing back down, shifting until he's hovering over my breast. He kisses the weight at the side, nipping softly, avoiding my nipple despite the way it stands to attention, demanding him to stimulate it.

He ignores it, dragging his lips to my stomach, a pleased hum rumbling low in his throat. I arch, connecting my hips with his chest. I manage a whine, and he immediately looks up, smug smile tugging his lips. He winks, like a fucking jackass, and finally hooks his fingers into the waistband of my panties. 

I lift my hips before he can even tug, demanding he takes them off. I hear him laugh again, but he listens, tugging them just down my thighs. I feel the burn of arousal low in my stomach as he exposes me. I don't even have a chance to fluster before he's leaning in, pressing between my legs and kissing my pussy before my panties are even fully off my legs.

Clay hums, clearly pleased, pressing another kiss. 

"Spread yourself." He demands, quiet, finishing getting my panties off.

I have to collect my wits, embarrassment crawling my skin to my face. It takes a moment, but I manage to dart a hand between my legs, parting my pussy and lifting my knees further, until I'm fully exposed. My other hand lands back in Clay's hair, threading in and gripping tight. 

Clay spends a moment, paused, just staring. 

"—fuck." He breathes out, then presses in, tongue first. 

My body is reactive. I arch, taking a stuttered breath, feet curling as I finally feel his tongue press against me, burning hot and focused. 

Because I'm quiet, moans coming out as soft breaths and whines, it makes his noises... all the more obvious. Is he usually this noisy when he's giving head? Because, he's... moaning, constant, low in his throat, desperate. 

I flutter my eyes, focusing on it.

Clay presses in, almost aggressively, lips and tongue moving, lapping at my pussy like he needs it. I arch again, body twitching away from his demanding mouth. He doesn't take it, hands adjusting, one landing on my waist, the other on my hip, both gripping down and holding me in place.

I keep pulling his hair as he points his tongue, circling my clit with precision, moans getting higher, even more constant. He swipes with his tongue, dragging it through my pussy, pressing it inside of me, then back to my clit, drinking my slick.

I throb on his mouth, arousal numbing my body, effecting my ability to think. I tilt my head back, eyes fluttering shut, making as much noise as I can without really being able to moan, panted breaths catching in my throat as he moves. 

I want to tell him it's amazing, that if he doesn't slow down I'm going cum in seconds, but, I can't. 

I tug his hair, like that's communication enough. If he understands, he doesn't show it, instead pressing in harder, moans louder as they reverberate low in his throat. I feel the pressure building, fast and sharp.

I can't— I can't fucking—

Suddenly, he's off.

"You okay, baby?" He asks, voice vulnerable. 

I take a shuddered breath, cracking my eyes open, feeling the sensation fade, looking down at him. His face is flushed red, eyes half-lidded. If I didn't know any better, I'd think he was the one getting head. 

I nod. I'm okay. More than okay. Will be even if he gets his mouth back on me. I tug his hair, guiding him back in.

Clay smiles for that, leaning in to press a kiss to my inner-thigh before landing his mouth right back on my pussy. My eyes close again, head rolling back on my shoulders as my hips nearly involuntarily tilt to demand. 

Harder.

He listens, quickening the flick of his tongue into something rapid, overwhelming, playing with me hard enough I'm right back to where I was, burn in my stomach begging that I cum on his tongue.

My entire body lifts, legs licking out, ripped into an orgasm before I can get Clay to slow down. He must feel me throbbing against his mouth, or see my stomach going tight, because he lets out a pleased sigh, slowing his tongue until he's just coaxing me through my orgasm as I rock against his face.

He chases no over-stimulation, the way he usually does. Instead, his hands loosen, both thumbs gently rubbing circles into my skin as he tapers back into gentleness, until eventually pulling back.

Clay looks up at me, over the rise and fall of my stomach, lips parted, expression heated. 

"Can I keep going? Please." He asks, then, his eyes lower. "You just feel so fucking good on my mouth, baby." He mumbles, like an admittance.

I search his face, still trying to catch my breath, dull thud of my heart in my throat. I nod.

Clay melts into a blissed out expression, eyes locking back between my legs, then he's pressing back in. 

I gasp at the contact, his tongue immediately overwhelming with it's movement, legs briefly going tight. I pull his hair once, and he listens, looking up at me puppy-eyed and moving his tongue slower, softer. I loosen my hand until I can just pet his hair. 

I wish I could praise him, tell him how good he makes me feel. But... he can probably tell. I'm shivering, panting, dripping wet on his tongue.

He adjusts, and my eyes catch.

His hips are twitching, rolling. He's giving himself pressure, fucking himself against the mattress as he focuses on me. I watch his body roll with intent, then hear a breathy moan from his throat. I tug his hair again, and he gets excited, hips twitching, tongue quickening back up to a demanding pace, until he's just fucking me with it.

My head and eyes roll back again, ability to focus on anything he's doing that isn't between my legs fading as his tongue presses inside of me and curls.

God, I'm gonna cum again, so fucking stupid fast.

I whine as well as I can, gripping Clay's hair and just pulling, using it to hold on as his hands tighten, holding me in place on his face, like he doesn't want to miss a single second. My thighs tense, my body arches, my hand pulls tighter, the burn grows to a demand low in my abdomen.

Clay presses in like a man drowning, whines of his own high in his throat, dripping out like a response to mine. He pulls back, just to speak.

"I can't wait to fucking—" He presses in, dragging his tongue against my clit, keeping me close, then pulls back again. "—split you on my cock the fucking second I'm—" He presses back in like he can't help himself, dragging his tongue and nearly whimpering as he presses in.

I flutter my eyes open to look at him, seeing he's rolling his hips against the mattress in a desperate rhythm.

"—the second I'm fucking done with you." He finishes, then presses in with intent, tongue flicking my clit rapid, pointed.

Fuck— 

I take another stuttered breath, squeezing his head with my thighs, cresting over into my orgasm. I lift my second hand, getting it threaded into his hair as well, and pull with both as my hips jerk to roll against his mouth. He lets out a pleased cacophony of moans, dragging me through my orgasm until I'm kicking out, then finally slows to a stop as soon as I'm on the brink of over-stimulation. 

I can feel a tremble in my legs this time as Clay pulls back, rubbing his face to my thigh, scraping with his stubble. I can also feel that his face is wet, and have to choose to ignore that. I take a deep breath, retracting one of my arms back into my own space, taking a moment to catch my breath.

"Atta girl." Clay mumbles, and I blink my eyes open to look at him. He leans in, pressing a feather light kiss to my stomach above my pussy. "Such a good girl, cumming on my tongue. Your pussy is so—" He interrupts himself to sigh, just staring. 

I flutter my eyes slowly, loosening my hand enough to card it through his hair to his face, cupping his cheek and running my thumb along his jaw. He tilts his head into it.

We have an appreciative silence for less than a second, before Clay comes back in verbal and unashamed of it.

"Good girl." He sighs out, tender enough my stomach flutters. "Such a good girl." 

Clay's weight starts to shift. He's moving himself up, lifting himself above me. 

"I just know you're gonna feel so fucking good, baby." He says, landing a hand on my hip, carefully adjusting to line his lap up with mine, still in his shorts. 

Though, I can see he's desperately hard, and— oh— I can feel it too, as he presses in, rolling his cock against me. He does it in a rhythm, like he's fucking me, holding my hip tight, looking down to watch me. 

"It's so weird that you're quiet." He says, staring down at me. I sigh, pressing into his movement. "You're such a sensitive girl, you'd be noisy for this, I know." 

I exhale another small sigh, but nod at him, looking at him through my lashes, coy smile curling my lips.

He stares for a moment too long, slowly rolling his hips against me. It's long enough that I start to fluster, lifting one of my arms to cover my chest, and using my other hand to cover his where it rests on my hip. 

I don't expect it to get more embarrassing, then, Clay speaks. 

"I could write about you." He starts, breathy.

I tilt my head like a question, breath caught in my throat. 

"The way you look under me is— it's—" He pauses to blow a breath, his hips slowing as he rolls against me, but pressing in harder. 

"The way you—" He pauses again, moaning as he rolls his hips. 

Clay drops to his elbow, coming down on top of me, face to face. 

"The way you shake when you cum. The— ah— the line of your back, and how sharply it curves the— haa—" Clay tries to speak, but pauses, eyes fluttering shut as he rolls his hips. 

Once his eyes open again, he searches my face. They flick down, focusing briefly on my lips before his head tilts and he starts to lean in. He gets close enough that we share breath, then whispers.

"Please, baby."

I swallow my nerves, eyes fluttering.

Fine. I mean— fine. 

I nod. He can have his fucking kiss.

Clay nearly whines, leaning in until our lips are just brushing. He presses an incredibly chaste kiss, then pulls back, processing. He stares me down, then: 

"Fuck." He breathes out, pushing forward almost aggressively, forcing his tongue into my mouth as our lips collide. 

This time... he actually whines, desperately jerking as his hips roll, pressing his cock between my legs. He kisses like he can't get enough, barely breaking to breathe before he's pushing back in, dominating the kiss. 

I move with his lips, with his body, rolling against hum just as desperately, listening as he presses into the kiss, whining and moaning high. His hand tenses on my hip, then he pulls back.

"Oh shit—" Is the only warning I get, before he whimpers and drops his head to my neck. "Fuck, fuck, fuck—" He whimpers out. 

I'm about to ask what when I feel Clay snap his hips, then his cock jerks inside his shorts where it's pressed against me. 

I freeze, blinking, processing. Did he just—

Clay whines, eyes fully shut, panted breaths passing his lips. Between my legs, his lap starts to get... more wet. A different wet, heat spreading between us.

He just— did he just—

"Fucking— I— I'm sorry— I—" Clay stutters out.

He came in his fucking pants. That's— 

I feel a head rush of power, taking a heavy breath. I immediately dart both hands up to hold the back of his neck, finding it's burning hot, holding him in place as I press in for the kiss, controlling it. His lips quiver against mine, a small shiver passing through his body as he whimpers and rolls his hips against me, chasing his pleasure. 

"Fuck—" He breathes out between kisses. "I'm sorry— I— I'm sorry— fuck—" He whines.

I pull back, just to search his expression. His face is flushed red, his eyes are hesitant. He looks... sheepish, almost, nearly unconfident for once. I smile. 

Good.

I pet the back of his head, rolling my hips against him. A kiss. All it took... was a kiss. 

I push, trying to get him to lean back. As soon as he does I'm leaning in, pressing my hand forward, slipping it into the waistband of his shorts, touch exploratory. I want to feel it. I wrap my hand around his cock, finding it still mostly hard, covered in cum, and grin. I use his own cum like lube, gently pumping up the length of his cock with my hand.

Clay whines, ducking his head, twitching his hips to fuck my hand. 

"I—" He tries to start again, but I squeeze, stimulating the head of his cum-slick cock, thumbing the slit. He stutters into silence.

I wish I could tease him and comfort him. Instead all I can do is this, slowly stroke his cock until he's ready to go again, then let him take out his embarrassment on me. After that, he... likely has something to prove.

***

POV is Dream's. 

***

I can't— I can't fucking believe I just did that. Her mouth was just... so soft. And I could feel everything between her legs. It was just so warm and perfect and the pressure was just right and—

I fucking lost it. It's stupid. It's fucking humiliating. 

But... something in her expression is pleased, excited. She grabs my spent cock again, stroking the length. It nearly guts me, emptying my head as all I can focus on is the sheer pleasure and overstimulation of that perfect little hand wrapped around my dick like it belongs there. 

It takes me a bit to get hard again, but I get there. My cock grows heavy in her palm, an aroused fuzz coloring the edges of my brain as the blood flow changes. Until finally, I'm standing to attention, ready to make up for... whatever the fuck that was. 

I blink as she presses in for another kiss, tugging at my waistband. I let her push her tongue into my mouth, instead focusing on rolling my hips, getting my cock stimulated. 

I want it inside of her. I know she's going to feel amazing, I could feel it with my mouth.

So fucking soft and wet, pulsing on my tongue because she's my little fucking whore. 

I nearly let those words slip, then bite my tongue. 

Gentle. We're gentle today, Clay. 

Still, looking at her under me like this, following the arch of her body with my eyes, the way she tilts her chin back to expose her throat, showing off bruises that I recently left... my control might slip.

I have to pull back, trying to shake some of the fog from my head as I finally get my shorts and boxers down and off.

I look at her like a question, wrapping my hand around the base of my cock and holding. 

"Can I, baby?" I mumble out before I realize I am.

I need to fuck her. I need to feel her. Please, baby, let me. 

That delicate head tilts, two knowing eyes staring up at me from behind a fray of lashes that drives me fucking insane.

She squints at me, hooking her leg around my hip and squeezing me in. I can't even describe how good she'll feel on my cock. How good she feels in my hands. On my tongue.

I take a shuddered breath. Then, I get my nod.

"Thank you, mistress." Automatically passes my lips. 

I smile, just to play it off as a joke, but something inside of me preens for her attention. The words get her to react. She lifts a hand, stopping me, smile curling her lips as that hand drops between her legs. I can't do anything but watch as her fingers slip between into her pussy, dragging along, slow and intentional. She's playing with herself in front of my face, like I won't snap, claim.

But because it's her... I wait, watching her drag her fingers against her clit to fuck with me.

She spreads herself just so I can see it, helplessly watching her tight pussy grip on nothing, knowing it could be wrapped around my cock. 

She pushes her luck sometimes, but, I can keep my head when I remember: I'm going to fuck her into the mattress as soon as she's done. I get to watch her face contort. She's her prettiest when she's split open on my cock mewling like my little fucking whore begging for—

I blow a tense breath, clearing my head.

Nice Clay. Gentle Clay. She's fragile right now, not the way my girl usually is.

I swallow the words. "Could I touch you?" I manage to ask, breathy, soft. Soft. Stay soft. That's what she needs, that's what I want.

She stares at me for just a moment, before she retracts her hand, guiding it to my wrist and tugging it in like a demand. 

Fingers, then? Okay.

I let her guide me in, just until my fingers slip between everything soft and warm waiting for me. There I pause, gently stroking with my fingertips. I want inside, but I know I can maintain my control. As my fingers move up, applying pressure to her clit in the way that I know makes her tick, I get to watch. 

Her head tilts back, her movement soft, loose. She drifts her hand from up to my wrist to my forearm, and holds gently. She's stroking me with her thumb, though I'm not sure she knows it.

"God, look at you—" My pretty little fucking whore, "—my sensitive girl. I can't get enough of you." The words slip from my mouth, filtered through to a softer version of what I'm thinking, just accurate enough.

It gets her attention. She focuses her eyes on me, drifting her hand back to my wrist and guiding me in further. I'm finally allowed inside. It's crazy how she can do that— maintain that. Even with no words, she begs, orders, always speaks. Her body is... mouthy, to say the least. 

I nod, moving my fingers with intent, pressing two of them into her. Her pussy warm, cumsoft, though still needy, immediately gripping down. I feel my smile appear as I curl my fingers up, pressing into her most sensitive spots with intent, and watch her react under me. 

Her eyes roll back, her body arches, her hips lift, her hand grips down. I can tell by the way her lips part that I would've gotten a mouthy moan from it if she could. Instead, I get a stuttered breath, her lips parting and staying parted. 

It catches my eyes, cock flexing where it remains under-stimulated, heavy between my legs. I adjust until I'm supporting myself, then lift my other hand from the mattress up to her face. I brush my fingertips along her lower lip like a question. Her mouth parts further, tongue just barely pushing out. 

Fuck.

I have to swallow, trying to keep my head, then push my fingers into her mouth. She lifts her other hand to wrap that wrist, then tightens her lips, looking up at me through her lashes as she sucks my fingers like a good girl. My good girl.

Fuck. 

I can't— fucking take this.

I can't help myself when I watch her perform like this. I barely remind myself to keep moving my fingers in her pussy, pumping them in and out to get her ready for my cock, completely distracted by the way her lips stretch around my fingers, her tongue curling around the digits where they're buried. 

I finally manage to collect myself, pulling my fingers back, briefly holding her mouth open. I'm tempted to spit in it, just because I know she'd fucking let me, she'd let me do anything I want, but control myself. That isn't what this is. I can have that any time. I don't need it now.

I finally pull the whole hand back, dragging my spit-slick fingers from her face to her chest. Usually my eyes will catch on her breasts, their softness, the way my fingers press them in, but instead, I focus on her face. I drag my fingers along a nipple until it peaks, then pinch. 

I feel the reaction, her body just barely jerking, arching to press further into my hand.

I could play with her like this forever, yet...

I pull my fingers out from inside of her, dragging slick with me and wrapping my hand around my own cock. I give it a few cursory strokes, getting it wet, then press the head to her entrance. 

"Can I—" I start, taking a stuttered inhale as she rolls her hips, dragging the head of my cock through her pussy. 

I tick my jaw, stretching my neck to relieve how tightly I'm holding it. She's lucky that I don't just bury my cock now, snap my hips, see how demanding she wants to act like that. 

"Please." I breathe out, nearly whimpered, control slipping as I rock against her.

She looks at me again, then nods. With her permission, I shift into position, getting my hand off her chest and onto her thigh. I have to grip, handling it into a a better position, folding it back at the knee. Spread like that, I finally line up, pressing in just the tip of my cock. 

My mind goes blank, all higher function spent on the pleasure spiking in my body. There's small choked noises in my throat. I can feel my abdomen tense, the veins and muscles leading to my cock flexing with the effort, every inch of my body screaming at me to snap, bury, finish getting inside of this perfect fucking girl.

I take a breath, steadying myself, and continue at the same slow, careful pace.

Her pussy is warm, so fucking warm, enveloping me, dragging me deeper inside like fucking gravity. I whine before I'm even half in. 

"Baby, I can't— you feel so fucking— you feel amazing on my cock, I can't—" I say.

I hear her whine, soft, quiet, and I lose control. My hips snap, desperate, and I bury the full length of my cock inside of her with one desperate jerk.

"Fuck—" I breathe out, hips stuttering to move the second I'm inside. She feels perfect, split on my cock, filled by me, throbbing around me, pressed into the mattress by the pressure of my hips just holding their position. 

I take my now free hand, adjusting until my thumb can press in as well. I take a moment for me, brushing along the edge of where we connect, circling her taut entrance, feeling how stretched open she is on my cock, before refocusing and moving my thumb to her clit. The second I make contact, she gasps, going tight around my cock, milking me with her pussy. 

I nearly black out it feels so fucking good. 

My hips pull back, just barely, then I press in, rocking against her, finally starting to move. The heat that rushes to my head, along my body, is numbing. I lose focus on everything except: move. 

I pull my hips back, then snap them, rough, finally giving us both what we want. She goes reactive under me, arching, trembling, breathing. It's intoxicating to watch, listen. I tune out my own noises, focusing on one thing, her. The way she moves, the way she tilts into it, grips down. The face she's making, how she keeps squeezing her eyes shut because it feels so good.

I can tell. I make her feel amazing.

But she... she's fucking gutting me. My abdomen goes tight, tighter. I draw in a sharp breath, cock flexing like it knows. Shit, shit. Not yet. Not yet. 

Fucking— fuck.

I stutter my hips to a near stop, blowing a tense breath, changing my rhythm. I have to go slower.

"Sorry—" I breathe out, focusing her clit again with my thumb, nearly folding as she pulses on my cock. "I—I, I almost came. I don't think— I don't think I can last." I admit.

I'm usually not... ashamed of it, of how quick she can make me cum if I let her. She's fucking amazing. But... I feel embarrassed. I already fucking— came in my pants and now a minute of fucking has me buckled. I used to be better at this, the nerves would help a lot in keeping my head.

But, the more relaxed we get, the more vulnerable I let myself get, the quicker I break, losing myself in that enveloping heat, snapping myself in for pleasure. 

She looks... proud of herself. I tilt my head, trying to look the same. 

I'm gonna make her cum again. Just for the look she's giving me. I quicken the stutter of my fingers, pulling my hips back to snap them against her, and watch that smug look wipe off her face. 

She's going to cum fast, I'm touching her just right. My sensitive girl, my perfect girl. 

"Cum on my cock like my good fucking slut." Comes from my mouth.

Fuck. Shit. Damn. I tried. Still, she whimpers, nods, rolls herself into it. It makes me proud, watching her melt under me the second I speak filth. That's my girl.

"Come on, baby." I encourage, a bit too excited, pulling back to snap my hips against the back of her thighs, fucking my cock in and out of her with a rapid rhythm. 

She looks amazing, desperate... sloppy. Perfect. Watching her is enough to distract me, control my own orgasm. The longer I last, the longer I get to watch this. I fuck into her hard enough her breasts bounce, her body drags up the sheets, her hands grip down, holding tight, like she needs something to ground her. 

She whines, head tilting back, then everything wrapping me goes impossibly tight. I stutter through a gasp, trying not to lose myself as she cums on my cock.

Three. I got her to three. No one else could do that to her. That's why she's mine.

I watch her mouth open and stay open, choked noises coming from her throat as she fights to gasp, her face contorting with the effort. Her eyes roll back in her head, her body pulling tight enough it looks like it hurts. I slow my hips, lifting my my hand from her clit to cup her cheek. 

"You okay baby?" I ask, watching as she collapses into a shivering little thing, spent, throbbing on my cock. 

She presses her face into my palm, loose, relaxed. Her eyes barely flutter open, trying to focus on me, before they roll back again. She exhales, then lifts her hand to mine, threading our fingers together and holding tight.

She tries to look at me again, to some success. She finally nods, rocking her hips in rhythm with mine. It's my permission.

Yet... "Are you sure you're okay?" I breathe out.

She smiles, turning her face to kiss my palm and squeeze my hand, then nods again.

Okay. That's enough for me.

"Just hold on for me." I mumble, careful, then start to snap my hips again. 

Her hand goes impossibly tight where it's wrapped around mine, holding me in place the same way she's doing between my legs. 

I could live like this. With her, under me, spread open and whimpering for more, for the rest of my life.

"I'm close." I breathe out, feeling her tighten on the length of my cock, the stimulation overwhelming me.

I start to lose my rhythm, myself. I fight to keep my eyes open, watch her body react to this, then snap my hips. There's a rush of blood, a stuttered shout caught in my throat, then a desperate fucking cry as I finally release. 

It feels— she feels— it's—

My eyes are open, but I can't see. My brain is absolutely melted, all of my energy and focus spent on fucking my cum as deep into that perfect little pussy as I can get it. 

I drop my face next to hers, drawing in a last sharp breath, before I slot our lips back together. I kiss her like it's the last time I ever will.

"I love you." I coo out against her lips, lost in how much she means to me. "You're my good girl." I praise.

She melts into it, moving her lips with mine, whimpering into my mouth. Once I'm satisfied, I pull back, ignoring the trembling in my hands as I try to collect myself. I shift my hips, slipping my softening cock from that perfect heat, then can't help but look.

She grips on nothing, drooling my cum from that needy fucking hole down her thighs.

I love look at at her like this, fucked into exhaustion, filled with my cum like a claim.

"Sorry that was so fast." I murmur, landing a hand on her thigh to spread her back open and watch.

She catches me, and despite being melted, weakly slaps at my arm. That's my signal to behave. I grin, letting her legs drop. I'm just as spent as she is, feeling like I'm moving at a glacial pace, heart thumping in my throat, body buzzing with pleasure... but... she needs care more than I do right now. 

I steady myself, and lift from the mattress, standing next to her. She immediately protests. I have to stifle a laugh as I shush her. 

"C'mon. I need to clean you up." I mumble, then reach forward, wrapping my arms around her and lifting her into a princess carry.

She seems pleased once she realizes what I'm doing, burying her face in my neck and mouthing there. She bites, soft, careful, then tightens her mouth to bruise. It makes my breath catch, how good it feels. 

I do my best to refocus, carrying her into the bathroom. I set her down on the lip of the bathtub, then turn the water on. Contrast to earlier, I turn it to scalding hot. 

"Can you feel that for me? Make sure it's a decent temp." I ask.

She nods, loose, and pushes her hand forward under the water, she squints, then turns it even hotter. I huff a laugh. She's so cute.

"You're gonna melt your fucking brain." I chastise, pressing my own hand forward to feel the temperature. 

I immediately retract. It's so fucking hot. I'll never understand how women can bathe like that. I shake it off, deciding I'll just have to be miserable. I land my hands on her hips, finally tugging the shirt I put on her earlier, off. 

"There." I say, pulling into a smirk. She looks at me with a question. "I finally took everything I put on you, off." I say, mirroring her earlier speech. 

It gets me a smack on the arm. I look at her, proud, but she just shakes her head at me, then mimes typing on her phone. I roll my eyes. 

"Gimme just a second." I say, turning to snag soap. 

I grimace at the pink bottle of bubble bath. I don't really like this one, well, I don't like it on me, on her it smells amazing, but it's all I've got. I pour way-too-much under the running faucet, set it down on the floor, then turn to go get her phone. 

Once in the room, I find our phones, stacked on the nightstand. I decide to check mine before I head back. I see a message from George.

'everything alright?'  
'i heard about what was going on' 2:49 am

I smile at the message, then text back. 

'yeh all good now :)' 4:17 am

Simple, but it should be enough. 

I ignore my other notifications, snagging the phone that was asked for and leaving mine. I return to my girl, walking in just in time to catch her pouring more soap in. 

"It's gonna overflow." I say, grinning, then pass her the phone.

She makes a happy noise, grabbing for it. It's seconds before the robotic voice starts again. 

"What would you do if we were having sex and I was typing my moans into this? Like ah daddy harder ah ooh oh I am moaning." 

I tense my jaw, barely stifling a laugh as I hear the voice read it off. Now that we're done with sex, she's back to this. Back to being stupid, despite all her intelligence.

"Were you thinking about that while I was fucking you?" I ask, humored.

She flusters, rapidly typing. "No. I thought of it just now." The voice reads out. She keeps typing. "During sex I was thinking ah daddy harder ah ooh oh I am moaning." The voice reads. She smirks at me.

I shake my head, blowing out a laugh I can't contain, then turn the water off. The bath is full. I see her try to type again, but pluck the phone before she can. I set it on the floor on a mat, near the tub, then pick her up. I expect protest, but she stays totally relaxed, leaning into me. 

"Good girl." I mumble before I can stop myself. I get smacked upside the head for it.

"Worth." I say, then step into the tub, lowering us both into the water. 

It... kind of hurts. The heat is sharp, nearly oppressive. I tense up, but she goes totally lax, blissing out as she stretches in the water and presses her face back into my neck.

...worth.

I immediately focus, lifting and dragging the water along her body, up her chest. I'm honestly kind of tired. I want this to be fast. I carefully drag my fingers along her body, wiping away the sweat and cum, working them into the softness that lays beneath her skin. 

She makes a noise as I hit a spot of muscle that must be sore. I look up to her face, then dig my fingers into it, working it to make it feel better. Her eyes flutter, her lips part, her head tilts. I can't help but go in on it, pausing my hand as my focus shifts to connecting our lips. I have a pleased feeling low in my stomach, and smile into the kiss.

"I knew you'd give up. I knew you'd kiss me." I say, teasing, then pull back.

She reacts by rolling her eyes, but I see the smile tugging her lips. 

I keep staring, feeling myself soften. She's really... she's... she's really mine, huh? How'd I convince her to— to love me? 

I start to fold, expression and mood shifting into something less warm, and more vulnerable.

How did I get this? What karmic imbalance exists in my life to have— to have this. She could be with anyone, but she's with me. 

Why does she wanna be with me? 

I swallow, trying to shake the insecurity. I'm great. She loves me. I'm worth this. I can have this.

I lean in, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

***

POV is reader's

***

God, I'm fucking tired.

Clay bathed me, a gesture sweet enough I could cry. As if that wasn't enough, he dried me, took care of my hair with my guidance, then dressed me, too. Now, we're back in bed, in the dark, me flat on my back with him buried in my chest, his arms looped around my waist. 

I can tell by the rhythm of his breath that he isn't asleep yet. I lift a hand to card it through his damp hair, lightly running my nails against the base of his neck.

He can be... so overwhelming sometimes. Perfect. Too perfect. He's so fucking... sweet and gentle when he decides to be, commanding and rough when I want it, and goofy when I need it. He's— he's an amazing man. It makes my heart ache looking down at him, thinking about everything he does for me, how much he shows me he loves me and cares for me. 

I didn't think I was meant to be happy— sated— loved like this. I didn't think I deserved it, and I definitely didn't think I could give love the same— or at least not as freely. I feel— he's — he— he could have anyone he wants. 

Why does he wanna be with me? 

I falter, brows twitching inward at the thought. That's a stupid thought. Obviously he loves me, that's why he wants to be with me. I puff a massive sigh.

"Big sigh." Clay mumbles from where his face is pressed into my chest. 

I laugh as well as I can, moving my hand to gently scratch the back of his neck again. He shudders, leaning into it. With him melted on top of me like this, I'm free to think, or, more aptly— to over-think.

I recall earlier, the way he hid that he was crying. The question burns in my throat, demanding me to ask it. I'm almost happy that I can't speak and ruin the moment. I have to quiet the thought.

I decide, if it was important, he'll tell me. That's what our relationship is based on: trust, respect, and, after we stopped acting like idiots, a metric-fuckton of honesty. 

I stroke with my thumb. 

He's vulnerable with me. He'll tell me.

I look at Clay's face where it's buried into my chest, a small sated smile spreading my lips. He moves, readjusting, burying his face deeper.

"Mommy milkers." He says.

I tug his hair for it, sighing, but my smile doesn't fade. I look at him, humored, knowing he's probably smug that he got to get away with saying that, and warm.

I love you too, dumbass.


	10. impressions (plot)

"How is it?" 

I hum, testing my voice. "Better." I say, then have to clear my throat. "Better enough." 

It's been officially... one week since I passed out under Clay. What a crazy fucking day that was. 

I got a note that allowed me to skip class and work all last week and this week. Something, something something, something precautions something something. I stayed with Clay the entire week.

I am... tired, to say the absolute least.

Right now I'm on the phone with Ellie, sat at Clay's PC, screen-sharing to her, scrolling through roommate posts in my school's looking for a roommate website, trying to find even one that doesn't seem like they'll be throwing a party every weekend or have a stick shoved so far up their ass I catch stand them. 

It's an annoying dichotomy to be faced with, but, I guess those are the types of people looking for a roommate in the middle of the year. 

"What about her?" Ellie asks as my mouse hovers a girl. I first notice the lilac hair, it's a pretty color.

"I got your— shit—" I tilt my head to look, watching as Clay nearly drops the glass of water I asked him for, tripping over his own pants on the floor.

He took them off in a hurry last night. My throat was feeling... better. Better enough. We had to try it out just to make sure.

Clay balances himself, quickly looking up and spreading into a loopy smile. 

"I got your water." He croaks, then closes the distance, dropping the glass to my desk.

I roll my eyes at him, at his croak. I gave him what I had almost immediately. Exactly like I thought I would. I hope the kiss was worth it, big man. 

My lips twitch to smile.

...I mean, it must've been. He came in his fucking pants for it.

"Look at this girl." I say, gesturing vaguely at the screen, tamping down my thoughts.

Clay makes a noise, then leans in, folding over to drop his chin to my head and look at what I'm talking about. He must have the same thought process as me, because:

"Oh, cool hair." He says.

"She seems..." Normal? Not like a prude? Not clinically insane either? "—nice." I say, then click to send her a message. 

"Say something about the in-unit laundry." Ellie chirps from my phone. 

"Yeah, yeah. I will." I say back, then type my message. 

It's cheesy, pleasant, plenty of information. Clay slaps my thigh when I'm done.

"Yeah, send it." He says, so I do. 

After that, Clay walks away to go lay down with Patches in bed, but I stay on the phone with Ellie, we bullshit for only a few minutes, before I get a chime. Already— it can't— already. The girl— Alex— messages me back with a number. I text it. She texts back.

"Oh shit— she wants to see it in an hour." I say aloud. That's not even possible. "Fuck, what do I say? Sorry, I'm in Orlando?"

Clay laughs from behind me. I spin to look, seeing he's on his back with Patches draped across his throat like a scarf. She looks at me as I look at her, and blinks, slow. 

"You look pleased." I remark to her. "Daddy's all your's right now, huh, big girl?"

Clay laughs again, lifting his hands to pet her. "She's purring and it tickles." He says, then: "Also yeah. Just tell her you aren't free until you think you'll be back in town." He says, then coos, kissing Patches.

I squint at him. "That would be a whole ass week from now." 

"Then say you're free a whole ass week from now." He says, like it's simple.

"But what if she finds another place to live in that time? She's one of the only normal people I've seen." I say, then pout.

"Yeah— and—" Ellie starts, "It might be nice to have someone move in as soon as possible so they can start paying the rent." She chimes in. Valid point.

Clay cranes his neck to look at me, pout visible on his face. I know what the solution is, he knows what the solution is, but neither one of us wants to say it.

"Would you be able to show it to her?" I ask Ellie, a stretch.

She sighs. "I wish I could. Alas, I have no key." 

Damn. 

I look at Clay again, meeting his eyes. Now we're both pouting. 

"I guess I should go home." I finally admit.

"No." Clay says back. "I mean— yeah, you should, but... no, I don't want you to." 

I look at him, feeling the same, then message the girl. 

'i can meet at 6 pm !' 2:13 pm

She replies back.

'sounds good!' 2:14 pm

***

"Just a little more, just a little more—" Clay mumbles from where he's stuffed his face into my neck.

I can't help that I whine back, tilting my hips so that we're totally flush, and tightening my hands on his shoulders.

I made the supreme mistake of laying down to give Patches goodbye cuddles before I needed to leave. Clay saw it and crawled into bed with us, which quickly devolved into him getting goodbye cuddles before I needed to leave. Which turned into...

Me, flat on my back, pressed into the mattress by the full length of Clay's body atop me. Him, grabbing everywhere, mouthing at my neck, rolling his hips between my legs like he doesn't know exactly what he's doing. 

"Baby c'mon..." I say, even as my legs spread wider to accept, and my hands hold him in place.

"Y'should call me daddy instead." He mumbles against my neck, dropping his hands to my hips and gripping.

I roll my eyes, small laugh in my throat. 

"Do you deserve it, big man?" I ask, dragging my hands along his shoulders. 

Clay opens his mouth, pressing it to my skin and kissing. My breath catches, resolve melting. 

"I do." He says, simple, voice low enough to send a shiver through my body. 

Damn. He gets to me. 

"Daddy, c'mon." I say, soft.

Clay lets out a pleased noise, hips twitching to press against me harder, like he can fuck me over our clothes.

"I have to go." I say, quiet.

It's true. I do. I have about ten minutes of wiggle room to get on the road, but his ass is keeping me pinned. 

"Do you think I could get a little goodbye something before you go?" He asks. "I promise I'll be quick." 

I bite my lip to stifle a laugh. 

"I'm not gonna touch you, but you're welcome to cum in your pants, if you'd like." I tease.

He grumbles, but rolls his hips.

I yelp, slapping at him. "That was a joke. Clay. Do not—" He rolls again, particularly hard. It gets moans from both of us. I start to kick out, writhing under him. "Clayton. Off of me— off—" I command, squirming and fighting.

He starts to chuckle, but does listen, pulling back. Once he's peeled off of me, I see the visual evidence that's he's half-hard from the shit he was pulling. I roll my eyes. I pause for a moment, feeling tender as he looms over me, grinning like a fool. One I collect my resolve I flip, wriggling all the way out from under him and up to my feet. 

I already packed. I just have to leave. 

I hear a thump, and look to see Clay has flopped over to his back and is now spread out and laying down. He yawns.

"Yeah? Gonna sleep?" I ask.

He nods, then makes grabby hands. I have to laugh, but double over, pressing a single kiss to his forehead. He lifts his hands to my waist, holding me in place for just a bit longer.

"I'll miss you." I mumble against his skin, then, finally pull back and walk away.

***

The drive home isn't particularly easy. I notice my meds have me a bit... loose, soft. I have to drive careful, a bit under the speed limit. I end up arriving— fuck. Fifteen minutes late. 

I rush to the front door of my apartment, finding the girl who's there to look at it waiting. Which, I expected, I had to call her and tell her I'd be late. I didn't even bother to make an excuse. I told her: "I'm on meds for a throat problem. Had to drive more careful than normal, my bad." 

"Hi!" I chirp, fumbling with my keys and walking up to unlock the door. 

The first thing I notice is that she's exactly my height. 

"Sorry I'm late." I say, sheepish, then open the door.

"It's chill." She says back, calm enough. 

I duck my head, then awkwardly start to tour her through the apartment, thankful that Ellie and I had just cleaned. Why'd I show up late? That's making this so awkward. She's gonna tell me to fuck off, that she doesn't wanna live here, that—

"When can I move in?" She asks, as we stand in Ellie's old bedroom.

"Uh—" I start, short-circuiting. "Like— as soon as you want, I guess." I say.

"Like, I could move in tomorrow?" She asks.

"I'm— I mean— yeah. If you have rent money." I say, flustered.

She smiles at me. "Then I'd like to sign whatever I gotta sign and move in tomorrow." She says.

I lift my brows. That was— alarmingly simple. 

"Uh— yeah. Okay— sick lemme get the— the lease— or no— I'll just, I'll text it to you." I stumble over my words, overwhelmed. 

She smiles again. "Great." She chirps. "See you tomorrow." She says, then walks away.

As the door shuts, my brain kicks back into gear. That was— quick. That was really quick. I fumble my phone out, send her, my new roommate, Alex, the lease. The second it's done, I text Clay.

'????????????????'  
'she's moving in tmrw???????' 6:27 pm

I'm surprised that the reply comes back as quick as it does.

'XD?'  
'why do u sound confused abt it?' 6:27 pm

'i mean'  
'doesnt it just seem... quick' 6:27 pm

'maybe the situation is weird?' 6:28 pm

'i need u to validate me rn' 6:28 pm

'okokok it's a bit quick'  
'isnt that a good thing tho?' 6:28 pm

I blow a tense breath. I— yeah. I guess it is— a good thing. Maybe I'm just nervous because it's a new person. 

Also— wait—

'werent u supposed to be sleeping? 🤧' 6:28 pm

'i was trying'  
'but ive had you for a whole week'  
'its hard to sleep w/o u' 6:29 pm

A smile splits my face before I can stop it. I've only been gone a couple hours.

'did u want me to ft u big man?' 6:29 pm

As soon as it's read, I receive an incoming call from Clay. 

"Hi!" I coo out, walking to my room to lay down and chat with him. "Did you miss me?" 

"I did." Clay says, then laughs. "Like I actually did!" 

I laugh at him for it, flopping into bed and curling up with my phone.

That's okay. I missed him too.

***

"My dick is wet inside my pants right now. I—" Sapnap speaks over Discord. I interrupt.

"Are you going to fucking gank me or just keep talking about your dick?" I say back, rolling my eyes.

It's the middle of the week, and I'm still out of classes. My new roommate has been moved in since Sunday, though, things between us are still awkward and new, so I spend most of my time hiding in my bedroom. 

I'm on call with just Sapnap. George and Clay have been recording a video together, just them, so I messaged Sapnap to see if he was up for games. We got to talking, learned we both liked League, then went on a streak queue'ing normals. We've just lost twice in a row, and we're starting to lose our minds. If that wasn't evident by the—

"Oh they're free. They're dead. They're dog shit. God they're so free. I'm coming and I'm cumming." Sapnap continues. 

"Please just help me and shut the fuck up." I say, though I have to stifle a laugh.

Sapnap shows up in my lane, gets a kill with my support, then immediately starts moaning. 

"You're supporting me so fucking hard it hurts. I'm chafing in my shorts I'm so saturated—" Sapnap continues his bullshit. 

I fully laugh for it. He returns to midlane, until the enemy laners overextend. Again. 

"I'm gonna be honest. They're kind of looking like a SNACK right now." Sapnap says, I purse my lips, focused on not dying.

"So are you." I say before I can think.

Sapnap starts to moan again. "I'm bricked up right now. I'm literally—" 

"Me too." I say back, casual, trying to keep focused. 

He stops speaking to laugh.

He comes in again, snagging another kill on the exact same mistake. I snort through my own laughter. He moans again, and I moan back. 

As I go to ping him, I hear another ping. A Discord ping. 

"My tip sticky right now. I'm fucking creaming in my shorts right now, my tip moist I'm—" Sapnap starts again.

"What?" Comes in Clay.

I spare a glance, seeing Clay and George are both back in the call. They must have finished their special Clay-and-George-only video. 

I ignore him. 

"Sap if you gank me again I will actually start squirting." I say, ignoring the noises of protest from my boyfriend and George.

Sapnap reacts by laughing, but I see him start roaming toward me.

"You are both— odd." Chimes in George.

"Just stay alive kitten. Daddy needs your support." Sapnap says.

"What?" Clay repeats.

I grin wider, watching him arrive in my lane. He gets a kill, then chases the other player.

"I will rain Niagara fucking Falls of squirt down your chest if you get this double." I say, still not thinking. 

We push forward, and Sapnap gets him double-kill. Simultaneously, as though we share one remaining braincell, we both start moaning. 

"Ah— you ganked it so good fuck— yeah— my pussy is squirting—" I moan out.

"Ah— my throbbing erect male reproductive organ is just drippy right now—" Sapnap moans back.

"What the fuck is wrong with you both?" Clay asks, sounding almost too-genuinely offended.

I huff a laugh. "Big man's got something to say after him and George just got done kissing?"

Sapnap laughs. 

Clay makes a noise, then goes quiet for a moment. When he comes back, he comes back swinging. "Actually, we didn't kiss. I was getting my dick sucked." He says.

I hear George gag, immediate. 

"What is wrong with you?" George questions. 

"I bet you did, big man." I say back, then bite my lip. "Be careful doing that George, you might end up in the hospital." I tease.

George gags again, but finally starts to play along. "I won't. I'm not weak like you." He says.

I pout. "My throat game isn't weak. My throat game is tremendous." I reply.

"Yeah. Tremendously weak." George retorts. 

"You're really gonna come into my house— suck my man's dick— then call my throat— Sap, where the fuck are you?" I start a sentence, interrupting myself midways through as I notice dragon is up and Sapnap is in fountain.

"I'm coming baby, daddy just wanted his item." He says, laughing. "I'm so fed I'm fucking bursting. I'm so fed it's leaking out the tip of my dick. My shorts are wet right now." 

I roll my eyes, but I'm grinning like a maniac. 

"Nah, that's just me. I'm milking dick telepathically today, so if you feel something grip your dick and squeeze it out, that's just me and my hole, my bad." 

"What the fuck—" Continues Clay, followed by stuttered, incomplete words.

I can't stop myself. I interrupt him. "If you need proof. Just ask Dream, I was telepathically gripping him so hard last week he came in his pants. I sucked him through his jeans." Ah— maybe I shouldn't have said that. Whatever, they'll probably think it's just a joke.

"Damn. Was that shit bussin'?" Asks Sapnap, teasing, unaware. 

Clay speaks. "N—no I, well, I was I— it didn't—" He starts, flustered. Dumbass. He was in the clear.

"Wait— what? Did you?" George asks, incredulous after that little performance.

Silence follows. An elongated silence. A damning silence. It's only broken by stifled laughter sputtering out of George and Sapnap. Clay growls through a frustrated sigh. I realize quickly that I definitely fucked up.

"Yo, he— did he actually?" Sapnap questions. 

I suck my lower lip in.

"Uh—" I start. "N-no. He didn't." 

It's silent again. Until Sapnap speaks. 

"He did? You are sick in the fucking head." He says, finally breaking it, followed by howled laughter from both of them.

"HE DID—" Shouts George. 

"Listen—" Starts Clay. I have to tune it out.

I duck my head, cringing as both of his friends start typing to him through their laughter. 

Sapnap  
'🧖🏻 dreams dick inside his pants' 11:26 pm

George  
'👖💦💦 🤔' 11:26 pm

I hear Sapnap typing on Discord, then watch him die in the game. He shouts, surprised, but it dominoes after that, until we're aced and then lose. Everyone else on our team starts to come for him, rightfully so. 

I type 'ggwp mid diff' in the chat, disconnect from the game, then from the call with out a word. I sit there for a second, just staring at my keyboard, face burning with second-hand embarrassment. Poor fucking Clay. 

There's a knock on my door, feather light, that snaps me out of my spiral.

"Yeah?" I call out.

My door cracks open, and Alex hesitantly pokes her head in. 

"I was gonna— go get like— fast food. Thought I'd ask if you wanted anything?" She says.

I pause, considering her for a moment. I think I do.

"Could I come with?" I ask, wanting as far away from my computer as I can get.

Alex looks surprised, but shrugs. "I figured you were busy, y'know, shouting in here. But yeah, if you want." 

I duck my head. "Sorry. Video games get the best of me." 

She laughs, the first time I've heard her do it. "That's okay. I just didn't expect it. You seem so—" She starts, looking me over, then shrugs. 

"What?" I ask.

"I dunno." She continues. "Quiet, I guess." 

Oh. 

"My throat was messed up. I was just taking it easy. I'm not really a quiet person. Sorry if I tricked you." I say.

"No, no. It's fine, it's fine. It just surprised me. I had a preconceived conception that you were a bit of a tight-ass." She says.

I grin at her, standing up and grabbing my wallet. "I wouldn't say that I am." I say, then we walk out to her car together, back to silence. 

I hop in passenger side, nearly snagging the aux before I remind myself this isn't my man's car and I can't just do that. I patiently fold my hands in my lap, looking over and watching Alex get in, then she grabs the aux for herself. 

"Anything you hate?" She asks.

I shrug. "Not really."

"Okay, okay. Just know you had your chance to stop me." She says, then taps. I hear the sounds of 100 gecs filter in, and nearly start to writhe where I'm seated. 

"Didn't expect that." I say, around my laughter. "I call my boyfriend pissbaby, sometimes." 

"You have a boyfriend?" Alex questions, just barely turning to glance at me as she pulls onto the road.

"I do!" I chirp, fumbling to pull my phone out and find a decent picture. "His name's Clay, he lives in Orlando so— a bit away. If I disappear on the weekend that's where I am. I mean— you'll probably meet him, he comes over a lot too and..." I stop myself, realizing I'm rambling.

I settle for the one I have as my background, then angle the phone in her face. She nods, but her brow twitches in.

"I see." She says. 

I tilt my head like a question. Before I can ask 'what?' she speaks again.

"He must be uh— really nice." She says.

I shrug. "He's more... funny than nice. But yeah, he's definitely sweet. Does he give off a nice vibe?" I ask, looking at the picture again.

"Nah—" She starts, "It's just— he looks like any other dude in the world, and you're like— super cute." She says. 

Oh? I open my mouth, waffling between being offended for Clay or feeling complimented. 

"Thank you?" I start. "But I disagree. He's handsome..." I coo, looking at the picture again.

Alex laughs. "Sorry! I mean no offense. I don't often like— like men. So maybe I just can't tell the difference between an ugly dude and a decent one." 

I laugh back. "That's fair." I say, relaxing a bit. 

Maybe she's just... blunt. She probably didn't mean anything by it. We continue the drive, idly talking. I learn she is incredibly blunt, to the point i'm left speechless multiple times.

I also learn that she's a physics major, and is from California. She tells me she used to be incredibly awkward in high school, and loves games, but not Minecraft, once I offer to play it with her. We talk until we get our food, then decide to park in a store's parking lot, eating and people-watching. 

We get on the topic of my throat, and decide I'll be as blunt as her.

"Yeah, my boyfriend was fucking my throat and I guess damaged it and it got infected or something— and dude, my fever got so high I blacked out while we were having sex again and—" 

Alex laughs, lifting her brows at me. "You're joking." She says. 

I shake my head. "I wish. I wish I was joking." 

She keeps laughing. "Let me see him again." She says. "Let me look at this man knowing this information."

I grin, lifting my phone and displaying my photo of him, proud.

She shakes her head, looking seemingly in disbelief. "I just— I cannot—" She lifts her hand, tapping a finger to the screen. "I cannot see it."

"See what?" I ask, grinning. 

"That." She says, tapping the screen again. "You let that man throat fuck you into the hospital." 

"What do you mean?" I ask, somewhat used to the bluntness. 

"I—I mean." She starts, looking at me with raised brows. "Can I start with the jeans?" She says. "And the shoes are—" 

I protest. 

"His pants are fine!" I coo, then look at the picture and pout. "What? You expect him to be dripped out? You think he should be a hype beast?"

Alex shakes her head. "No, but, really? That's the best fit he could put together?" 

I purse my lips, then look at the photo, then look at her.

"Well, I'm not fucking him for his clothes." I say.

"Obviously." She says back.

"He's a good man! He loves me a lot." I pout. "He just doesn't like using his—" I'm interrupted by my phone ringing.

Speak of the devil. 

"He's calling." I say, then answer. Before I can even speak, he does.

"Where the fuck did you go?" Clay asks. 

"Hello to you, too." I say, brows lifted in surprise. 

Suddenly, I remember why I hung up and ran away, embarrassment crawling my skin again.

"Hey. Hi. Now where are you?" He asks again, a bit closer to neutral, but still tense enough that I stiffen.

"I'm out?"

"Doing what?" He asks back.

"Getting food with my roommate? What? Chill."

"Oh." He says, then after a moments hesitation. "I— I'm sorry. You just— I didn't even realize you left and you didn't say anything. Are you guys like— friends now?" 

I relax now that I've gotten my sorry.

"You coulda asked big man, instead of calling and freaking out." I respond, ignoring the second question.

"I wasn't freaking out— and I did. I texted." 

"You did?" I question, then flip my phone to check. He did. "Oops." I say, then laugh.

"You are so godawful at checking your phone." He says, then laughs, but it still sounds slightly tense. Before I can question it, he speaks again. "Well, Sap's waiting for you to come back so you guys can keep playing."

A smile warps my face, warmth blooming in my chest. "Aw, he cares about lil ole me that much?" 

Clay chuckles. "Shut up. Just get your ass back here."

I keep grinning. "Okay. Bye bye." I say, not waiting for his goodbye before angling the phone out and blowing a kiss before hanging up. 

I look over to see Alex already watching me. "He wanted to know where you are?" She asks. 

"Yeah, sorry." I start. "He's a bit..." 

"Possessive?" Alex, chimes in.

I shake my head. "Protective." 

She keeps staring me down, until I fluster. 

"Look— he's... a good man. Everyone has faults." I say. "Plus we're— literally dating. He can want to know where I am."

Alex raises her hands. "I didn't say anything." She says.

I roll my eyes. "I can tell you're thinking it. I promise he's not like that, usually." I say. 

"I didn't say a word." Alex tags on. 

I purse my lips, squinting at her, embarrassed at what I have to ask for next. 

"Uh— on that note. Could we start heading home?" I ask, sheepish.

Alex gives me a knowing look. "Of course." She says, starting her car.

We continue idly talking on the drive home. I decide that I like her, despite the general bluntness. I have to think, if I had a friend whose boyfriend was calling them home after less than hour, I'd be a bit... judgmental, myself.

I walk back into my room, sipping my drink, and plop down at my desk, popping my headset on and reconnecting. 

"Now where were we?" I coo out.

Sapnap makes an excited noise. "Seven inches deep in normals." 

I grin.

"I'm gonna queue bott this time. Show you a real carry." He says.

I hum, "Good, you kinda blow at mid." 

He protests. "I was eight—two last game!"

"And we still lost." I say back.

Sapnap laughs. "Tough talk for a support main." 

I squint. "Okay— at least—"

"How was your drive?" Clay interrupts us before we can get into it.

I hum. "It went alright. I finally had a conversation with Alex. She seems nice— oh— and I told her about you. She think your shoes are ugly and that you're possessive." 

"What?" Clay protests. "My shoes are fine." 

I grin. "That's the part you correct?" 

He makes a noise. "Well... I mean. I am possessive. I'm not gonna lie about that." He says.

I laugh at him for it. "You're just going to own up to it? Is that how you'd introduce yourself? Hey, I'm Clay, I'm dating your roommate, by the way my shoes are fine, you're right about the possessive thing, though." I mock.

"Yeah!" He says back. "Sounds perfect to me." He keeps chuckling, and I roll my eyes. 

"Nah, nah. He'd be like—" Butts in Sapnap, and I can tell this is going downhill. "What's up, I'm Clay, I'm 21, I love Minecraft, and I throat-fucked my shorty so hard she got laryngitis."

I spit out my drink, folding into laughter. George joins me in laughter. Clay and Sapnap, on the other hand, start yelling at each other. 

I pay no attention to it, instead focusing on the chat where George has started spamming a message. 

'my dick got my shorty laryngitis 💪🏻😈 rawr'   
'my dick got my shorty laryngitis 💪🏻😈 rawr'  
'my dick got my shorty laryngitis 💪🏻😈 rawr' 12:07 am

I laugh, then start spamming it right back.

But, it gets me thinking. How would I describe Clay to someone who's never met him? Possessive doesn't seem right, protective does seem like a decent fit, but he isn't—

"Baby, log on, come on baby, log on for me baby—" I startle, hearing Sapnap's voice addressing me.

"Hm? Are we ready to play the game now? Are we done?" I tease, snapping back into focus.

"Don't call her that." Clay mumbles.

"Why? Huh? It's her name in the game, dude." Sapnap says.

I laugh because it's— somewhat true. My name is 'LOCKIN NAMI BABY'. "C'mon baby, come to Sapdaddy. I'd treat you right— I'd never cum in my pants." Sapnap continues.

The words are barely out of his mouth before Clay speaks again. "I'm asking you to fucking stop. I need you to stop or I'm going to actually get pissed." 

"Get his ass, Dream." George says.

"Chill, it's just a name, dude." Sapnap says, voice still light with laughter.

Clay continues, voice raised, "It's not just the fucking name. You two have been saying weird shit to each other constantly. When I joined the call you were talking about your hard dick— it's pissing me the fuck off. I really don't like it."

There's silence, after. 

"Sorry." Sapnap mumbles, finally.

"Sorry." I mumble as well.

I worry my lip, then click to queue. 

Maybe he is a little possessive.


End file.
